Rift
by Zoe-eoZ
Summary: After the collapse of the Other Side, Mystic Falls is turned into a nightmarish hell. Hellhound-like monsters and disillusioned humans go after the supernatural, and Bonnie is left to deal with it all by herself, until one day Enzo of all people shows up again and for better or worse she's not alone anymore. - Bonenzo
1. Encounter

…

The Rh'a are coming. With her ear pressed against the frozen ground, Bonnie can feel more than hear them pounding the forest floor. They are still far away, but that will change soon. She gets to her feet and pulls her coat up a bit so it's off the ground. Risking a quick look behind her, she checks for any strays she might not have picked up on before, then she grabs her bag, slings it around her shoulder, making sure that the herbs she was out here to collect are all in there, stowed away safely. Then she dashes away, the trees around her becoming a blur as she picks up speed, her movements shaking the snow off of the lower hanging branches, a cool mist dampening her cold face as she keeps running and running until her lungs are burning, her legs cramping up.

Soon, the sound of the approaching monsters grows louder, too quickly, and she tries to get her brain to work, come up with a plan. The house is still too far away, she would never make it in time… She should have never gone out alone, but - she didn't exactly have a choice.

Suddenly, the air around her shivers ominously, her heart beating too fast as she realizes it can only mean one thing: a vampire. What kind of awful luck she has today…

Before she has much of a chance to keep running, or try to hide, try to do anything, really, she suddenly feels herself being pushed against a large moss-covered tree, a hand coming up over her face, over her mouth, keeping her from yelling, an arm across her neck and chest pinning her against the tree. Glaring at the one who trapped her, she tries to wiggle out from under him, but he is too strong, and she can't use her magic… Crap.

"Shh," he makes, shaking his head, a wide hood casting dark shadows across his features so she can't even see his face, yet somehow he feels familiar. Does she know him?

Her anger only grows as he tightens his grip on her, his relentless hand still over her mouth, his arm still shoving her hard against the rough bark of the tree, making her back protest. She tries to free herself by kicking him, making him grit his too white teeth in pain, yet he doesn't loosen his grip, just keeps her in place.

A few seconds later - she is still busy kicking him, glaring at his faceless hood - an avalanche of sound comes racing toward them, a wall of snowy dust swallowing them as the Rh'a run past, so fast, so wild that Bonnie's heart beats all the way up to her throat, her chest threatening to explode. If the beasts notice them after all, they'll both be dead, the witch and the vampire.

Closing her eyes, she succumbs, accepts that she is trapped for now, and a long breath escapes her in a shudder. How she hates this dystopian horror, how she wishes it had never come to this…

Tiny frozen crystals pelt against her skin, peppering her attacker's (protector's?) dark clothes that are too light for this weather until he almost looks as white as the snowy forest surrounding them, and through it all she keeps glaring at him.

When the dust finally begins to settle again, the noise from the Rh'a subsiding into the distance, she feels his grip on her loosen, and her anger is back instantly. There is no doubt in her that he didn't just save her out of the goodness of his heart.

Slapping him away as he tries to retreat, she tears at the hood he's hiding behind.

"If you think you can have my blood now, vampire, because you 'helped' me," she air-quotes, "you're mistaken. I didn't ask for your help. I don't need it. And now get lost, or I'll use my magic-" Abruptly, she breaks off, gasping as the hood comes off, revealing none other than… "Enzo?"

"Hello, love." There's a half smile playing around his mouth, but it's not quite reaching his impenetrable dark eyes, and Bonnie swallows around a sudden lump in her throat, her hand forgotten still clinging to the hood she pulled off of him.

She hasn't seen him in over half a year, since she saved him from oblivion and brought him back to the world of the living, since the Other Side collapsed and instead of just imploding, tore down the veil to other dimensions, creating this living hell they've all been stuck in ever since. She hasn't seen him since then, doesn't know what he's been through, just like he doesn't know what she's been through, maybe doesn't even know that Damon…

"Don't worry, I'm not here for your blood," he now says, interrupting her thoughts at the right time, and she gives an involuntary shiver as he pulls away completely, eyeing her with a strange expression. "Besides," he adds, a smirk appearing on his features, "we both know you can't use your magic anymore." He leans in too closely, his warm breath caressing her cold cheeks as he gently taps the collar around her neck, making her snarl at him. But then he adds with a soft whisper and what looks like genuine sadness, "I'm glad you're alive, Bonnie Bennett; and I'm sorry they got you..."

Her anger and fight dissipate a little at his words and she sighs.

"I don't even know who sucks more, the Rh'a or the non-supernatural," she allows, earning herself a smile from him as he tilts his head.

"Didn't think I'd ever hear you speak like that."

She sniffs, rubbing her too cold nose. "Yeah well, things have changed."

"Indeed they have..."

There's so much unspoken in their conversation, and she finds herself breaking out in an involuntary grin. He is really here, isn't he? The first familiar face in such a long time, and it's Enzo friggin' St. John.

"Anyway," he says, "just didn't want them to get any more of us. I'll let you get on your way now." With one last look at her, a gentle touch to her chin, he steps away, turning to leave, and for some reason it makes her insides tingle strangely.

Her brow creases into a frown. "Really?" she wonders out loud, "you're just going to leave like that? No accusations, no questions? I brought on the apocalypse and you're just going to let me go? Am I supposed to believe you mellowed out that much? Whatever happened to your anger at the world?"

She can hear his soft scoff before he turns to look at her again. "Don't flatter yourself, love. _You _did not bring this on. You were the anchor, sure. But this," he makes a wide gesture encompassing the desolation around them, "is not your fault. It happened. And yes, it sucks. But it's still better than oblivion…"

He gives a funny little wave as he walks away, leaving her to puff out plumes of foggy air. Her features crumble a bit, and she rolls her eyes at herself, cursing under her breath. After months and months of barely any decent contact with anyone, he has words for her that almost border on kindness and she doesn't want him to go. The lump in her throat grows as she fights down a sob.

"Enzo," she calls out, gathering her too long coat up to go after him, but before she can take more than a few steps, a snarl reaches her ears and she freezes, her gaze meeting that of… one of them. Her throat closes, her heart thudding too loudly, too violently.

Is this it? Is this how it's going to end, how she'll die?


	2. Going for a swim

...

When Enzo leaves her - that apparition of white in her snow-colored coat, almost perfectly blending in with her surroundings - he feels a strange emptiness take ahold of him. She's the first kind soul he's seen in a bloody long time, and part of him is not ready to let go of that just yet.

But then he hears that all too familiar sound, it's like a low growl, a bit like a wolf, a bit like something artificial, and he swallows hard as he very slowly turns around once more. There she is, Bonnie Bennett, and right before her, a large gray straggler, its jaws open wide baring rows of too large teeth.

He rolls his eyes, sighing. There's always one, isn't there? And he's going to try and save her, isn't he? Playing the goddamn cavalier. Bloody hell…

Before he can think about it too long, can convince himself that he doesn't care, that he is better off getting the hell away while he still can - because witches aren't his friends, certainly not in this new world - he is already running back toward her, toward the beast. And just as the… _thing_ barges forward, trying to snap at Bonnie, he lunges himself at it, grabbing it by the neck, using his superhuman strength to try and hurl the beast away.

Its dark gray hairs standing on end, the large spine plates rising higher up, the Rh'a whirls around, its teeth snatching at him, and Enzo has to pirouette, to dance to evade the resulting onslaught.

It's a vicious individual, possibly a female, he can never quite tell with these ghastly beasts, but it doesn't matter anyway. What matters is that the girl is only safe as long as he manages to keep the Rh'a engaged, so he better not die now, not when some idiotic part of him has decided to be valiant for once, to play the knight in shining armor.

He whirls around as the monster lunges for his throat, and he lifts an arm up just in time to deflect the attack, then hurls up his legs in an almost breakdance-worthy motion, kicking his opponent off of him. The Rh'a yowls, then jumps back up, landing on Enzo's chest, making him suck in air as he lands hard on his back.

Gritting his teeth, he tries to free himself, feeling the beast's claws tear into him as it lowers its snout, its dank breath making him gag and avert his face. Then, just when he thinks it's over, that he lost the fight, he sees Bonnie appear by his side, a large branch in her outstretched arms, and then she swings it, hard, making a gasping groaning sound as she hits the monster with all her might, making it yowl again and turn its ugly head.

"Enough," a loud voice suddenly yells, just as Bonnie hits the thing again, Enzo scrambling up as fast as he can, coming to her aid, pulling her away with him as the voice grows louder, angrier.

Crap.

"I said, enough!" the voice calls out again, and before he quite knows what's happening, Bonnie beside him begins shaking, moaning, dropping the branch to clutch at that awful collar around her neck and his eyes widen as he tries to keep her upright and away from the people that are approaching now: a band of humans… "Don't move," one of them says, a tall man, blond hair, blond beard, looking like a goddamn Viking in the middle of this bloody neverending winter, and Enzo rolls his eyes as he continues to pull Bonnie away with him.

"Do I have to repeat everything I say? Don't move!"

Enzo grins. "Yeah, I'll take my chances."

The man clicks his device, making Bonnie shake again, yelling now, and Enzo hisses as he pulls her up, hoisting her over his shoulder to carry her away, the human frowning at him angrily.

"Sorry, love," Enzo breathes, "this might get a little rough…"

"He doesn't have a collar," one of the man's comrades suddenly notes somewhere behind him. "Shit."

"Go hurry and get him, then," the Viking hollers, anger in his voice, and Enzo clenches his teeth as he tries to blur away as fast as he can - while he still can. If they get to him, if they send the Rh'a after him, it'll be over soon. So there's only one way for him to get out of this now: he has to make it to the lake, hoping the water isn't completely frozen over, hoping that he can get Bonnie and himself out there because the beasts can't swim…

* * *

…

Bonnie's entire body is aching, but at least the shocks from the awful collar have stopped now that Enzo has somehow managed to get her out of range. Still, she's being thrown around like a ragdoll where she is hanging off of his shoulders, trying to keep steady and failing, because he's damn fast, and the Rh'a are now after them again, their human masters urging them on. Gosh, how she hates that vile alliance of monsters and humans, how she freaking hates it.

But there's no time to think about that. Right now, there's only time for one thing: trying to escape.

"Let me down," she calls out to Enzo, whose grip on her is so tight it hurts.

"Can't, love. We're faster this way."

He's probably right, but still…

"Where're you going?"

"Water," he presses out, panting, and she instantly knows what he means. The Rh'a fear any and all water, and the lake is not far from where they are. Sure enough, the trees soon fall away to make room for the open plain that will lead toward the lake. She hopes they'll make it, because if not…

Turning her head as much as it will go, she risks a brief look behind them, spotting not just the one, but a bunch of Rh'a on their heels. They're so fast. Biting her lip until it hurts, she clutches at Enzo, trying to not get jostled too much.

"They're too fast," she hisses urgently, but her companion doesn't reply, just speeds on until she feels light-headed.

Abruptly, the air ceases whirling around her as Enzo stops in his tracks, and when he pulls her down, her body sliding over his chest, coming to lean against him for a brief moment, she looks up at him, both of them breathless. The air is turning foggy between them as he gazes at her with urgency.

They have reached the lake.

"Take your coat off."

"What?"

He doesn't bother to explain, just pulls at it for her, making her shove him away at the same moment she realizes why he's saying it. The large piece of clothing would drag her down in the water of course. They'll have to swim out into the ice cold lake. She will have to go in there, and she might freeze if she doesn't drown first…

Taking a deep breath, she glares at him angrily as if this is somehow his fault, even though of course she knows it isn't. Still, she needs to be angry at someone, and he's closest.

Tossing the coat down on the ground, she bends down, using Enzo to steady herself as she pulls off her heavy boots, then raises herself up again.

"You coming?" she asks, raising her chin as if this is some fun challenge rather than their only chance at survival, and he smirks back at her with sudden amusement in his features - which only riles her more.

"After you," he says, taking off his own shoes, but she doesn't wait, instead turns toward the edge of the lake. Curling her hands into fists, she inhales, trying to steel herself for this next part. Then she slowly walks across some slushy ice and snow and wades into the water, gasping as the cold shocks her body.

Suddenly, a push sends her flying and she falls into the water, her body freezing, her mind too before she struggles up, sputtering, heaving in breaths. She's shaking, disoriented, and instantly too cold, barely aware as his arms wrap around her, pulling her up and with him deeper into the lake.

"No," she says, shivering hard. She's changed her mind. Maybe dying by Rh'a is the better alternative after all.

"You really want them to tear you to pieces, love?"

Glaring at him sideways, she grudgingly, half numb, allows him to steer her further and further. They're almost waist deep, when Enzo suddenly lets go of her, a loud roar filling her ears as a shadow seems to be swallowing him and she falls away, going under as a heavy weight lands on her.

The beasts… They've gotten to them. The water is still too shallow. Bonnie knows she has to shake the thing off of her and swim. She has to fight.

It's dark and cold and she can't breathe as the water is closing in on her, empty jaws snatching at her blindly. Barely evading the attack, she struggles to come up again, she needs to breathe, she needs to get her head above water, she…

Bubbles explode around her as something thrashes close to her, fighting. She doesn't know which way is the top, which is the bottom. It's all so dark, so impenetrable. So hopeless.

Floating in limbo, her arms and legs pushing out, she tries to do something, the urge to just breathe growing too strong, and she gulps in a mouthful of water, her lungs protesting, her body seizing shut - just when something suddenly grabs her, hard, pulling her up, up, until her head is out of the water, and for one fleeting terror filled moment she thinks it's the Rh'a, but then she finds herself facing Enzo, his hands grabbing the sides of her neck as he keeps her head above the surface.

"Breathe," he orders, his gaze impenetrable, and all she can do is clutch at him, heaving in air as her eyes lock on his, a sudden panic only slowly fading away as she realizes she's still alive, and the beasts are… gone.

Looking around her wildly, she notices that the shore is further away than it was just seconds ago, but maybe more time has passed than she thinks. Because now they're deep in the lake, the coast full of angry roaring monsters, a gray furry wall of them lining the edge of it, some of them trying to go in the water, but not making it close to them, not anymore.

They're safe from one danger. But in the midst of another…

Her teeth are chattering as she focuses back on her companion.

"Now what?" she asks, "Any other great ideas?"

He has the audacity to smirk at her. "Swim toward the rocks," he says, and she curls her lips, glaring at him.

The rocks are miles away, on the other side of the lake. And she's not exactly an Olympic swimmer.

"Don't worry, love, I got you," he tells her, then wraps an arm around her as he begins pulling her with him.


	3. Not allowed to give up

...

What he hasn't told her, but feels becoming more and more of a problem is that while he was busy trying to fight off the more daring Rh'a that had followed them into the shallow water, one of them got him pretty good. He can feel the pain creeping deeper into his foot, his leg, can feel it sear into his skin, his muscles like a sore of fire, and the cold from the water is almost soothing.

He needs to hurry. Getting Bonnie and himself out of the lake is his prime goal, and if he can manage that, maybe she can use some of her witchy herbs and juju to fight the venom in his bloodstream, even though she is collared.

And if there is no hope for him after all, then at least he can die telling himself it was for a good cause: saving the girl. Wouldn't be too bad to leave this hell behind, either, would it?

Fate is bloody cruel, though, if this is really all he gets, after decades and decades of suffering. He's not ready to accept it.

Well, fuck fate then.

Clenching his jaw, he pushes onward, using the fresh surge of anger at the universe to propel him and the witch onward, forward, toward the bloody rocks that are slowly growing larger in the distance.

But he's so tired now… The water along with the pain lull him deeper and deeper into a frozen state of half consciousness, his grip on Bonnie loosening. It would be so easy to let go of her, let her drift off now so he can swim easier, faster, can maybe make it. But then what? He'd still die, and he'd do it alone.

"Enzo?"

Her soft voice sounds equal parts concerned and panicked, and he jolts himself out of it, baring his teeth with the strain as he tightens his hold on her again, forcing himself to keep going.

"Almost there," he pants out, even though it's a bit of a stretch. The rocky shoreline on the other side of the lake is still so damn far away.

But he keeps swimming, pulling Bonnie Bennett with him, and then, when his body is ready to give out on him, when he's already starting to feel strangely warm despite the ice cold water, they finally make it. His feet can touch the ground, and as he lets go of the witch, they both make their way toward the slick rocks, with clammy too cold hands grabbing the rough surface as they try to pull themselves up and out of the lake.

He gives Bonnie a shove, almost making her fall rather than helping her up and she shoots back a glare in his direction that he shrugs off.

"Sorry, love. Miscalculated."

"Clearly…" She scoffs, but it's obvious that they're both too exhausted and too cold to argue much.

When he pulls himself up to where she is already lying sprawled out, panting and aside from a violent shiver not moving at all, he collapses rather ungracefully right next to her. Grimacing involuntarily, he sees her shoot him a strange look, and he feels the need to say something, to reassure her, but "Don't worry, love," is all he can get out before he just can't fight the pain and cold anymore and his eyelids flutter closed.

* * *

…

"No."

Bonnie is so damn cold. She is so cold, can barely make her limbs obey, and now Enzo beside her doesn't stir anymore, even when she nudges him.

"Enzo. - No. No no no no no." Rolling onto her side, which is quite the task since her body is so frozen that every movement is a struggle, she extends her arm, pulling herself closer to him. She's not quite sure why she cares, but she does, and she doesn't want him to die now.

Can vampires even die of hypothermia, or what's going on here?

First gently, then more and more roughly, she nudges him, until nudges turn to shoves, then slaps against his cold cheeks, and all the while, her panic is beginning to skyrocket. She's out here on these stupid rocks, the house too far away, everything too far away. The Rh'a are probably still over on the other side, but they might be coming around the lake, and then they'll catch up with her - with him, too - and if they don't move, don't leave, they'll be dead before the day is over.

"Enzo, don't do this to me!" she yells through gritted teeth, growing angry now, and the emotion helps her fuzzy brain to focus more again. With her numb hands she pats him down, following a sudden impulse as the vague memory of a fight with the monsters flashes up in the back of her head. He didn't get injured, did he? Because if that's the case, if the Rh'a got to him, he's as good as dead. Not unlike the bite of their distant cousins - werewolves - the Rh'a venom is always deadly. Pulling and tugging at the vampire, Bonnie searches for signs of bitemarks, clawmarks, anything indicating that the skin could have been broken.

She pushes the collar of his shirt down, her hand fanning over a band of scratches going all the way down, bending to the left side, where it disappears from view. A soft hiss escapes her. That explains it, she thinks, and she slumps in on herself a little, unsure of what to do. He's not gone yet, is still hanging on somehow, and maybe it's that same anger she remembers from before that keeps him clinging to this life so desperately.

He wanted to live so badly, despite or maybe because of all the torture and pain he's gone through. Bonnie remembers it so vividly now that she feels a pang. She should probably get going, try to find a place to warm up, get out of her wet clothes, but she can't just leave him here. After all, he tried to save her.

Enzo St. John tried to save her…

Making a face, she stares upward at the pale gray sky for a moment, then makes her decision.

"Enzo, get up, or I'll leave you here," she tells him, slapping his cheeks hard, really hard, then rubbing her knuckles against his sternum, until he abruptly opens his eyes, gasping as he does, his hands coming up to grab her by the throat, and she pulls back, slapping his arms away. "Let go! It's me," she says, "It's me. Bonnie. Let. Go!"

The confusion in his gaze makes room for recognition and he finally obeys, takes his hands away and she scrambles to the side a bit, shivering and panting and just fed up with it all.

"The Rh'a got you and you didn't tell me?" She's incredulous, but then again, what did she expect. That he'd tell her? Yes, she kind of did expect just that.

"I'm sorry, love…" He actually sounds like he means it as he slowly pushes himself up into a sitting position, rubbing the spot on his chest she so roughly dug her knuckles in, and she feels a bit sorry now. "Should just try and amputate the bloody leg," he mutters, more to himself than to her, and she does a double-take, shooting him an alarmed look.

"Your _leg_?"

Squinting at her, he frowns. "Yeah… I thought you..."

Exasperated, she stares at him. "You have scratches on your chest. I meant the… I meant the scratches."

The smirk he gives her is almost suggestive in nature, almost seductive, and she can't help but roll her eyes when he says, "You checked my chest."

"You were unconscious. I needed to-"

"You were concerned for me."

"I was not. I was simply…" Huffing, she falls silent, angry that he manages to make her feel flustered when they should both be worried for their lives. "We need to stick together if we want to make it out of here." She decides to focus back on the task at hand: getting out of this situation. "The Salvatore boarding house isn't too far from here, if I'm not completely off... We should try and get over there before dusk - and before the freaking monsters come here to finish the job."

He cocks his head, giving her a strange look. "You'll be on your own, love."

Scoffing, she shakes her head. "I get it, you think you're dead already, and you probably are, and I should probably not bother with you anymore, because the last time we hung out you were dead and getting on my last nerve. But that's just not who I am. I won't leave you, so you better pull yourself together and help me out here."

The evident amusement in his features almost makes him look cute - certainly a lot nicer than most faces she has seen in a long time, and something in her seems to shift as she extends an arm to help him up.

"As much as I'm moved by your kind words… I'm afraid I can't walk."

"You can't walk…"

His answering grimace makes her furrow her brow, and she leans over, her hands carefully hovering over his legs as she shoots him a questioning look.

"It's the left one."

"Hm."

His leg is bent a bit, his own hand clutching at the knee, and only now does she notice what should have been glaringly obvious to her right from the start. The pant leg is almost shredded, the foot a bloody mass looking out. Gasping softly, she gently tugs at the fabric, moving to pull it away as his hand grabs her wrist, his too intense stare boring into her.

"I'll be careful," she says, and a flicker goes through his eyes before he eventually lets go of her again, however watching her warily.

His leg is a mess. There are deep gashes from where large dagger-like teeth have dug into him, torn the skin open, shredding the muscles underneath so deeply that Bonnie can see bone. All the way up to his knee sharp marks cut into him. Gasping softly, she looks at him, and he shrugs at her, almost apologetically, but doesn't say anything.

"We need to…" She trails off, trying to think. Rh'a saliva is so venomous that even a vampire's healing power can't take care of it. These wounds won't heal themselves, they'll stay. Unless… There's got to be a way to treat this, right? There's got to be something she can do.

Just not here, in the cold, on these slippery rocks.

"We'll have to try and wrap this. Maybe we can find you a stick or something to lean on. And then you're coming with me to the boarding house."

"Bonnie…"

The defeated expression in his face is so uncharacteristic that it startles her. This is the same obnoxious nuisance of a vampire who followed her around every step of the damn way when she was the Anchor to the Other Side, the same guy who was so angry at everyone and everything, so determined to make it back to the world of the living because surely a century of nothing but loneliness and pain couldn't be all there was for him. And now he doesn't want to fight this? She doesn't understand.

"No," she therefore says, waving him off before he can say anything. "You're not allowed to give up, Enzo St. John. You pestered me for months, wanted to live again so friggin' badly, and all you got was this here?! And you don't want to fight for something better? You don't-" Angry tears have begun running down her cheeks and annoyed, she wipes at them, never once taking her gaze off him, where he still sits, an unreadable look on his face. She's not just talking about him anymore, either, she knows it, and so does he.

This hell is a nightmare she has tried to get out off ever since she first found herself stranded in it, yet here she still is, and things have only gotten worse. She is so ready to just give up, to slump down crying, maybe even end it all. She could just lie down next to him, let the cold do it for her…

Gritting her teeth, she pulls herself together, forcing her dark thoughts to the back of her mind before they can continue on. Then she tugs at her soaking sweater, struggling to get her arms out of it, then pushes the thing over her head, Enzo's dark gaze on her the whole time.

"What are you doing?" He shakes his head, but she merely stares him down as she positions herself closer to his leg, trying to tear the piece of clothing into strips and failing. Only then does she remember her bag, surprised that she kept it on her through all of this, and she leans over quickly to grab it from where it is sitting on the rocks. Rummaging through its soaked contents, she finds a small-bladed knife and uses it to cut her sweater apart.

"Bonnie. You'll freeze to death if you don't get going now. I'm a vampire, I'll be fine, but you-"

"You'll die!" she interrupts him, half yelling as she rips at her sweater violently. "You'll die here. And then I'll have another one to add to my count of people I killed because I couldn't freaking stop the stupid Other Side from collapsing, couldn't stop this explosion of dimensions, and these… these _nightmarish monsters_ from coming after us. You are not allowed to die! No one else dies! No one! I'm done!"

The sudden silence that spreads between them when she falls quiet makes her shoot him a sheepish glance before she busies herself with starting to wrap his foot, and he hisses air in through his flared nostrils, his complexion growing even paler.

"Don't pass out on me," she orders, her tone calmer, colder than her thudding heart, and she feels a little sorry for being so harsh when he's clearly in so much pain. Unconsciousness would probably be a blessing for him right about now.

"You don't know me very well if you think this is-" He breaks off as she continues on and wraps up his leg, his eyes rolling back a little into his skull before he seems to be getting a grip on himself. Looking at him with concern, her features soften a bit.

"Almost done," she allows, the beginnings of a smile making her lips curl up a bit with compassion and when he nods at her briefly, she looks back down to finish her handiwork. "You've had worse, isn't that what you wanted to say?" she asks conversationally, acutely aware that neither of them have acknowledged her little outbreak from before. When she lifts her gaze again, he's not looking at her, resting heavily on his arms as he stares at his leg.

"Something like that. Not sure it's true anymore…" A soft chuckle escapes him, then he grimaces.

Tying the ends of the sweater straps together as best as possible, she inspects the makeshift bandage briefly before looking up. "As good as it's gonna get," she tells him and he scoffs, mouthing an unexpected "thank you" that makes her smile involuntarily.

"Don't thank me yet. Now for the hard part." Bonnie gets to her feet, her body barely complying. It is so cold… "Let's get you up," she cajoles, holding out a hand, "and then we'll have to get away from here."

She can see it in his eyes, the fight, the reluctance, the urge to tell her no and just stay put. But he doesn't. Instead, he eventually grabs her proffered hand, clutching it in his, and she leans back, putting all her strength into helping him to stand up.

By the time he is finally on his feet, they're both panting again, his breathing coming in shallow bursts, but he doesn't complain, and neither will she. All she wants now is to get out of the cold, preferably without having to face any more Rh'a or non-supernaturals…


	4. Shelter

…

He's leaning heavily on Bonnie, his arm around her shoulder, her hands clutching at him as they stumble across the rocky shore, and while he feels a little bad about being such a burden, he also thinks it's her own fault. She's making him come, after all. It wasn't his decision.

Well, that's being a bit unfair and ungrateful. At least she is still trying to save their lives, to save his life, when he has all but given up. And he's never given up before. Clenching his jaw, he therefore forces himself to pull it together when they finally make it off the rocks and down on the sand that will soon lead them away and into the next forest, toward the Salvatore boarding house. Standing a little taller, he tries not to put as much weight on his exhausted looking companion for this part of their journey. The poor girl has grown rather quiet within the last few minutes after all, her breaths making the tiniest plumes in the freezing air, and he catches himself growing worried for her.

For a moment, he closes his eyes, making a decision. Then he gently shakes his arm loose, making her startle and look at him.

"You are not allowed to give up," she says, but it sounds so weak as if she's ready to give up herself, and he smiles a soft frowning smile. Of course she doesn't actually care about him, he knows that. It's more about the fact that she wants company - because who doesn't want company in this godforsaken place? - but it's still the closest thing to concern anyone has shown him in a bloody long time, so he'll take it.

"I can walk on my own," he says, "thanks for your help, but I think you need all your strength for yourself now."

She gives him a once-over, making a face. But "Suit yourself," is all she replies before she continues on her tiresome walk, and he gives a sigh as he watches her trudge on for a moment before he follows her, grimacing with every painful step.

His leg and foot are killing him - probably quite literally, and that thought almost makes him chuckle. What a screwed up life he's lived, it's only fitting that it will be ended by a monster that should have only been able to exist within the realm of a bad horror novel. Not unlike a bloody vampire…

* * *

...

The trek takes them forever, but at least it takes the Rh'a even longer - if they're still following them. Bonnie is hugging herself against the cold, freezing so much more since Enzo has decided to walk alone, and it irks her a little to realize that she kind of craves his closeness again. Another human body simply is the perfect source of heat, and she needs heat right now, needs it desperately.

Her foot catches on something - a tree root - and she falls on the ground, the palms of her hands and her knees scraping hard on impact. But it doesn't even hurt all that much, she is too numb. With a flurry of panic she notices that her fingernails all look rather bluish and her throat closes when the thought of frostbite crosses her mind. Before she has a chance to think about it much longer or to scramble back up again, hands come up to grab her arms, pulling her up, and she finds herself facing Enzo, her body pressed against his, his fingers disentangling strands of her hair as he wipes them out of her face.

"You alright, love?" he asks, and she looks up, nodding, even though she's far from alright. She's too cold, too numb, she's afraid they'll never make it to the damn house and she'll freeze to death out here. But that's all stuff Enzo doesn't need to know. He wouldn't care anyways.

His body provides a welcome break from the cold, however, and it's with reluctance that she eventually pushes herself off of him again.

"Let's just keep going," she tells him, leaving behind what little warmth he provided, and with a shuddering breath, she continues on, listening for the sound of his footsteps, relieved when she finally hears it.

.

Hours later, she can finally, finally make out the silhouette of the large all too familiar home of the Salvatores and a chuckle escapes her as she turns around to grin at Enzo.

He's a dark figure against the white of the world around them, and she can't make out his face except for a light gleam of his eyes, but she smiles and points anyways.

"We made it," she says, smiling before she turns around again, steeling herself for the last leg of their journey. Just a little longer now and their trek will be over. There's the promise of a fire and warmth and quite possibly bourbon and food, and oh gosh if she isn't ready for all of that.

She half runs, half stumbles on, not quite caring whether the vampire is even still following until she makes it to the door, and an involuntary sob breaks out of her as she touches the wood, so close now, so close…

Hopefully there's still a key hidden here somewhere, maybe under the mat? As she begins looking for it on her knees, Bonnie realizes that she hasn't been back here since…

A hand comes up from behind, reaching above her, and she stares and watches as Enzo pulls a key off the small ledge above the doorframe, smiling down on her briefly as he offers her a hand, with his other already busy unlocking the door. Grabbing on, Bonnie lets him pull her up, but when she's on her feet, a sudden dizziness comes over her, so strong that her vision turns into a jumble of yellowish stars and blackness and then all she knows is that she's falling, falling, until everything stops.

* * *

…

Great.

Enzo barely manages to catch her - Bonnie Bennett, former Anchor, catalyst of a dimensional rift, collared witch and his current only company - when she passes out unconscious. He's looking at her with a mix of shock, annoyance and concern, feeling a little helpless before he decides to just hoist her up and carry her bridal style over the threshold and into the dark and musty inside of this house that he hasn't stepped foot in in forever - because he hasn't been back here, back to Mystic Falls since the collapse of the Other Side.

If anyone were to see them, they'd surely have something to say about the significance of it, but there is no one here now. The house has clearly been deserted for a while, and Enzo briefly wonders where Damon is - if he's even still alive - before the unconscious girl in his arms takes up all of his attention.

She is way too cold for a living being, her hands a white and purplish color that can't mean anything good. Closing the door, he begins to carry her deeper inside, as quickly as his leg and foot will allow. There's a bathroom down here somewhere, which is good because he doesn't think he can manage the stairs. But with any luck the hot water is still running and he can get her in the tub to warm her up.

He stumbles onward, fighting against his own pain as he does, forcing himself to ignore it as best as he can until he's gotten her into the bathroom. This girl is his only chance to battle the venom of the Rh'a, and he can't let her die. He still needs her. And if he's being honest for a moment, he kind of likes her company…

When they finally make it to the bathroom, a surge of relief washes over him. The large tub sits situated against the far wall, a milky window right above it, looking out toward the forest behind the house. With a few last hobbled steps, he brings her over there and lets her sink down as gently as he can - which is not very gentle at all. His own body is exhausted, too, ready to shut down, but he can't deal with that yet, needs to save this mortal girl first.

Trying the faucet, he's relieved to find the water still working, quickly beginning to fill the tub, nice and warm, and so welcoming that he wishes he could just hop in there too. Having a warm body for company - not to mention a pretty girl like this one - sounds a little too good right about now.

With a weary sigh, he forces himself to stop thinking that way and focus back on the logistics of his problems. While he lets her soak in the water, he needs to find her some dry clothes, and some for himself. If Damon didn't clean out the place, Enzo should still find a few things of his lying around here somewhere, and he's almost certain he will find some girl clothes, too. Dear Elena surely left a bunch of stuff lying around.

Elena, another person unaccounted for…

Shaking his head, he checks that Bonnie isn't in danger of drowning, making a face when he realizes he will have to undress her at some point. That should be… interesting. Chances are, she'll come to in the middle of it and accuse him of some inappropriate perverted behavior. But he'll have to risk it - for her sake and for his.

He wants to go and search the house, but when he tries to get up off his knees, a wave of nausea and wooziness makes him slump back down, and he lets himself sink into a sitting position with his back against the bathtub. Taking a few deep breaths, he tries to get his body back in gear, allowing himself a few minutes of much needed rest. His gaze falls on his leg and foot, and he grimaces at the mess. Bonnie's sweater is no longer the light color it was before, but stained by his blood and the dirt from their journey here. It won't be fun to take that off and clean it...

A moan jolts him back to the here and now, and he pushes himself up a little so he can peek into the bathtub, where he sees Bonnie Bennett stir, if not much. Her eyelids fluttering a little, her fingers too, she turns her head to the side, and it is as if he's watching her slowly thaw. Her cheeks look a little rosier already, her lips not as bloodless anymore, and he feels an involuntary smile tug at the corners of his mouth at the sight. As if he really does care about her, and not just because she is his only chance at survival…

But the longer he watches her, the clearer it becomes that she's nowhere near coming to, and so he'll have to go and continue his new job after all: taking care of her.

It takes him a while, but eventually he does find some clothes, and before he begins with the dreaded task of undressing and dressing the witch, he decides to stall a bit by making a nice fire in the fireplace first. Glad when he realizes just how well stocked up the place is, plenty of logs waiting to be used, he goes about his work, and it doesn't take him long until he sees the first flames flicker up. Wallowing in their warmth a bit before he reluctantly pulls himself up again, he then grabs some towels and takes a deep breath.

Now to check on Bonnie Bennett…


	5. Cleaning

…

She is vaguely aware of a long slow wave of warmth washing over her body, lulling her, gently tugging at her. A feeling of needles prickles in her fingers, toes, her hands and feet, then legs and arms. It ripples through her, but she's too exhausted to open her eyes, her mind not quite ready yet to face the world again. There is simply no strength left.

At some point, something else pulls at her and in a corner of her brain she imagines Rh'a taking her apart, or maybe a vampire digging their fangs into her, or the collapse of the Other Side tearing her in half. But this, this is softer, more like a caress. It feels… comforting.

.

The feeling of freezing to death in too wet clothes is completely gone when she finally stirs for real, peeling her eyes open to check her surroundings, and the world slowly filters back in.

She's lying on the floor, in front of the fireplace of the Salvatore boarding house…

Squinting a little, she waits for her vision to focus, for the haze to dissipate, and when it does, memory wooshes back.

She was out collecting herbs when she ran into him, Enzo St. John, returned from God knows where, and together, they just so escaped the non-supernatural humans and the Rh'a. Arriving at the boarding house is the last lucid memory she has and then… not much. Did she pass out? Probably. She was so incredibly exhausted, so cold.

Looking around, she notices that she's lying on a bunch of blankets, another pile of them on top of her. Her aching head is resting on a pillow and… she's wearing dry clothes, some of Elena's...

Abruptly, she shoots upright, a weird tingly feeling creeping up her legs and spine. Did Enzo… did he undress her? See her naked? Did he…

Before she can work herself up even more, a cough attack makes her bend over and forward, the violence of it burning her throat, exhausting her. Great, she probably caught the cold from hell out there, not that that is too surprising. She's lucky she's even still alive.

"Easy, love," his low voice reaches her ears before she can make out where it's coming from. And when her body has calmed down again, her head pounding with an awful headache, her eyes feeling like hot cotton wool balls in their sockets, she turns left, then right, scanning the too large living room until she spots him. Sitting on the couch, he is leaning forward, something shiny in his hands, his injured left leg resting on the coffee table before him as he gazes at her now.

"What the hell happened?" she asks, "Why am I wearing these clothes? Did you-"

"Strip you out of your soaking clothes?" he finishes for her, and she feels heat flush her cheeks abruptly, a strange feeling after the cold outside. She is beginning to feel too hot and pushes some of the blankets away. Glaring at him, she waits for him to continue, stating the obvious, and then he does, way too nonchalantly.

"Absolutely. Did you want me to leave you in them? Because I don't think that would have been such a good idea… You were starting to show signs of frostbite - and I'm not entirely sure but it sounds like you have developed a rather nasty cold, if not pneumonia. So yes, I made sure to get you into something dry and warm." Shooting her a strange look, he goes on, "You have a fever, too. - Which makes us quite the pair…"

He trails off for a moment, and she is too shocked to fill the silence. This man - this vampire - saw her naked. She feels violated, even though the rational part of her realizes that he probably saved her life, that there was nothing sexual about it.

Still.

"Anyway," he says when she remains silent, his voice nothing but a raspy breath. "There's water and some chicken soup next to you on the chair. I'd bring it to you, but…" He licks his lips, not continuing, and she doesn't need long to understand that he isn't doing so well himself.

Her mind awhirl with a bunch of contradicting feelings, she huddles up in a blanket again, trying to think. But she feels awful, her head throbbing, her throat burning, her nose starting to feel congested, and thinking seems damn near impossible.

"How's the leg?" she eventually manages, half crawling over to the chair he indicated, picking up the bowl of soup and she's slightly touched to find it there. He did this for her. It's probably just from a can, but it's better than nothing, and it's warm. Taking a careful sip from the spoon, she looks over to him, noticing that he has slouched down, almost lying on the couch now, his expression wry. The gleaming thing in his hand turns out to be a large serrated knife and her eyes widen as she's beginning to make the connection. Swallowing the soup, her throat protesting, she puts the bowl and spoon down on the ground beside her, squinting at him cautiously.

"You're not trying to amputate your own leg, are you?"

A scoff is his only reply, a telling reply, and the longer she stares over at him, the clearer it becomes that he's really not doing great. There's no color in his face, his complexion almost as ashen as that of a desiccated vampire. There's a belt wrapped tightly around his leg, right above the knee, and aside from the old and garish marks from the Rh'a attack she can see fresh blood making its way out of a deep cut right underneath the knee where he must have tried to saw into his own flesh.

"Enzo," she gasps out in exasperation, abruptly scrambling up, almost toppling over as her body protests, feeling so weak and feverish now that she's afraid to pass out. But she can't. She has to do something, has to stop him. Allowing him to mutilate himself and then probably still die, that is not an option.

"Don't worry, love, couldn't do it anyway…" There's a weak smile on his face as he looks from her to the bloody knife in his hand, and when she finally reaches him, she slumps down on the couch right next to him, her vision swimming, her head pounding with every beat of her heart. Barely, she manages to take the knife out of his weak grasp, laying it down on the table where his leg is still resting, looking awful.

Shaking her head, she focuses back on him, her hands wandering up, pulling down the collar of the shirt he's wearing, and he smirks at her. "Getting frisky there, Bonnie Bennett?"

"Pfft," she makes, rolling her eyes at him even though it hurts her head, then she lets go of the shirt. "At least the scratches don't look inflamed. They might even heal."

"If the leg doesn't kill me first, you mean?"

Nodding, she smiles at him. "If the leg doesn't kill you first. Or you, if you don't stop chopping at it."

"Desperate times…"

"Yeah." She catches herself feeling sympathetic when she places a hand against his forehead, leaving it there for longer than necessary. He wasn't lying, his temperature is awfully hot for a vampire, even she can tell that in her own feverish state. There has to be something she can do for him. "Let me clean this," she says, and his head sinks back against the cushions behind him as he closes his eyes.

"Knock yourself out. But for the record, I suggest you just lie down and rest."

"I will. _After_ I have cleaned this. Maybe…" She starts mulling it over in her head, trying to sift through what experiences she has with the Rh'a, with vampires, and werewolves… "An antivenom," she mutters to herself, trying to think. "There's gotta be something… Before Damon died, his bite had almost healed. It must have been the herbs. No. The… the…" An epiphany comes to her, and her eyes widen as she looks at Enzo, barely noticing the shock and pain on his features.

"It must have been the fungi!" she exclaims, excited, remembering a jumble of things now, most of them too painful to live through again, but she has to. She has to if she wants to save him. Abruptly, she stands up, blood rushing to her head too fast, making her dizzy. But before she can let herself slump back down or try and shake off the wooziness, his hand clutches her wrist like a vise and she stares down at him with a surge of anger.

"If you want me to help you, you'll let go right now. I need to get-"

"He's dead?"

The look he gives her stabs her right in the heart. An instant lump forms in her already aching throat as her body tenses. She can't move, can't speak. That memory...

"Damon," he spells it out for her, a slight waver in his voice. "He's… dead."

Her features crumble of their own accord, the truth of his words hitting her as if she hasn't realized or understood it completely until this very moment. Then she nods, watching as his feverish eyes fill with tears.

"I'm sorry," she breathes, as if that changes anything, changes the fact that Damon Salvatore has been gone for a while. "Almost everyone is..."

Averting his gaze, Enzo sniffs, running a hand over his face, and Bonnie watches him, her heart aching. She has been through this pain that he is feeling now, and she almost wishes she had a different kind of relationship with him, one that would allow her to hug him...

Damon died months ago, but before that, before he went on, she and him had become friends… She stifles a chuckle at the thought.

"How," Enzo asks her just then, returning his gaze to her face, and she feels a new heat creep into her cheeks that has nothing to do with her fever.

Staring at him, she weighs her options. She could tell him the gist, the bare basics, or she could fill him in on what happened in Bonnie Bennett's life after the collapse of the Other Side…

With a sigh, she leans forward a bit, closing her achy eyes for a moment, then she looks back at him, into his eyes that show a hurt she understands all too well, and she smiles at him with sadness.

"Let me get the fungi first, then I'll tell you."

"Tell me now."

She shakes her head, staying adamant. "This can't wait, Enzo. If we want to save your leg _and _your life, you need to let me do this first."

Scoffing, he makes an unhappy face. "You know there is no cure."

"Yet. Doesn't mean I'm willing to just give up, and neither should you. Now excuse me, I'll be right back." With that, she gets up, not too surprised that he doesn't keep her. Her slipped information has shocked him so deeply. She doesn't look back, but even so she can tell that he's staring after her, his gaze hot on her back as she is leaving, quickly snatching the knife and one of the blankets to wrap herself in as she goes. She knows she needs to hurry, or he will follow her.

Stupid vampire always doing stupid things…

She hasn't told him where she needs to go for this, that she needs to head out, because she's pretty sure if he knew he would stop her. Wrapping the blanket around her tightly, she makes her way over to the large entrance door, then takes a deep breath before opening it as quietly as possible. With any luck, he doesn't use his supernaturally heightened hearing right now and she can slip out without him noticing.

Peeking around the corners, Bonnie carefully checks for traces of Rh'a or non-supernaturals, then, when she's satisfied that the coast is clear, she quickly rushes out and toward the edges of the large plot the building is standing on. She needs trees, and not just any trees either. It has to be oaks.

There. She gasps in the cold air when she spots a gorgeous large example and runs toward it. The freezing temperatures feel a lot better now that she isn't swimming in an icy lake and her cheeks are burning with a nasty fever, and she welcomes the soothing effects on her body.

But she is not out here for herself, of course.

She reaches the tree just a few minutes later, hurriedly but carefully brushing off the snow that has settled on its bark. Relieved, she exhales a cloud of steam when she sees a nice thick layer of lichen meandering around the trunk, and taking out the knife, she begins to scrape at it, collecting the flakes with her other hand. When there's a decent little mound, she puts the knife back, rewraps the blanket and runs back toward the house as fast as her throbbing head and aching body will allow, shooting glances behind her to make sure no one and nothing is following her.

* * *

…

Maybe he should have followed her, or been more insistent, but Bonnie's news about Damon have caught him so off guard that he isn't quite functioning. The gnawing pulsing pain in his leg and foot doesn't help either.

Swallowing around a lump in his throat, Enzo tries to listen into the quiet, tries to keep track of the witch, but his thoughts keep distracting him, bringing him back to what she said.

Damon is dead.

So many have died, of course, he shouldn't be surprised. But he is, because Damon Salvatore is a cockroach who has survived everything and it simply can't be that he's dead.

Enzo doesn't want to believe it. He can't. That man is everything he has still left, his only friend, his chosen family. What is there to live for in a world like this when you're utterly alone?

"Sorry, this took a bit longer than I thought."

Bonnie Bennett's soft voice chimes up right then, interrupting his thoughts, and when she appears in front of him, he frowns at her suspiciously. Her nose and cheeks have a red tinge to them, a cold air accompanying her as she walks up toward him.

"You went outside."

She clicks her tongue, grinning at him sheepishly. But the expression is incredibly short lived and when she reaches him, she flops down on the couch so heavily that her deep exhaustion becomes all too obvious to him.

"You shouldn't have done that. You need rest," he tells her with soft reprimand, but she doesn't even look at him, merely busies herself with something in her hand. She's holding a small bowl, a spatula, and when he leans forward to look closer, he can see some kind of paste in there, gooey and gray, and smelling a bit like damp forest floor and dirt.

Abruptly, she turns and for one awkward moment, her face is but a half inch from his, her lips so close that he can feel her warm breath against his. She has nice lips...

He is still entranced when she pulls away first, putting the bowl on the table. A weird guarded expression has appeared on her features, and he averts his gaze as he tries to collect himself just as she gets up again.

"Have you cleaned this?" She indicates his foot and leg, pulling the blanket around her shoulders tighter again as a shiver rakes her body.

"You need to lie down, love," he notes, but she shakes her head and glares at him as if he said something completely stupid.

"I said we need to take care of this first."

"You said you'd tell me about Damon," he counters, and a flicker goes through her bright feverish eyes as she looks down on him with something like disdain or annoyance.

"He's dead," she repeats harshly, her voice catching, and the way she says it feels like she wants to punish him for being pushy, wants him to feel her pain. Because it's clear to him that something must have happened between this girl and his best friend since he last saw them both, something that made them close. "What else is there to say? His story can wait," she continues, staring at him hard, "yours can't. I'll get some soap and water, and antiseptic. This is gonna be unpleasant."

That last bit sounds like a threat, but he doesn't say anything to her, just slouches back into the cushions, following her with his gaze as she leaves yet again.

This time, she's only gone for five minutes, and when she sits back down with him, neither of them speak for a while. He watches her as she puts a bucket on the floor right next to her, a soap dispenser and a bottle of antiseptic on the coffee table. Then she puts two towels on her lap, grabs a washcloth, and...

"Drink this," she orders, pushing a bottle of Damon's best into his hand, and he takes it with a wry grin. This is definitely not going to be fun, is it? Swigging the bottle of bourbon, he takes a large sip, all the while staring at her.

"Ready?"

He takes a deep breath. "Would it stop you if I said no?"

Shaking her head at him, he can see the smallest hint of sympathy on her features, and it does something strange to him. But he doesn't have time to explore it, because right then she grabs his leg, placing it on her lap, and he sucks in air at the motion. She's very careful, very gentle, but it still hurts like hell, and his hands curl into fists as if of their own accord. Closing his eyes for a few seconds, he forces himself to take deep, even breaths, pushing one fist hard into the cushions of the couch to keep it together.

If Bonnie Bennett can walk out into the cold again with a sky high fever and quite possibly the flu, he can certainly do this. Except…

Clenching his teeth, he opens his eyes, staring at her hands on his leg, watching as she cleans it, slow movements with the washcloth, bloody water dripping down as she goes about her task. Her lips are pressed together into a thin line, a concentrated look on her face, a trace of concern visible.

"How bad," is all he gets out, just two words, then he needs to bite down hard again to stay stoic, to keep the pain to himself.

"Not good. This needs stitches, but I'm not a doctor, I've never-"

"Do it."

"Enzo…" She scoffs, a small sad smile on her face as she turns toward him, shaking her head. "I wouldn't know what to do. Chances are I'll just hurt you more than necessary."

"Do. It."

A long drawn out sigh escapes her as she looks at him and he can tell she wants to argue, wants to give him more reasons why it's not a good idea. But instead, she remains silent, then very carefully finishes with the washcloth before putting his leg back on the coffee table.

"Fine," she then says, slowly getting up again. Her movements tell him that she's in pain herself, her body probably weak and achy from her sickness. But before he can tell her to just lie down already, she begins walking away, looking back at him briefly to say, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Raising an eyebrow, he smirks at her, despite himself a little amused. He likes her attitude…

* * *

…

Bonnie's body feels like she was battered by a dozen Rh'a, like the non-supernaturals made her suffer through days of collar-induced shocks rather than just seconds. Rubbing a hand over her face, she steadies herself on the kitchen counter for a moment before she continues looking for some thread and needles. She knows Damon and Stefan keep stuff like that around here somewhere, she just doesn't quite remember where.

Standing up is starting to become a chore, and out there, the vampire is waiting, slowly but surely dying if she doesn't manage to save him somehow. And does she even want that? Things would be so much easier without him here.

No one to pester her about Damon for one…

But it also feels good to not be alone for once. Even if her company is Enzo St. John.

With a sigh, she pushes herself off the counter, rummaging through another set of drawers, relieved when she finally spots what she is looking for.

It doesn't take her long to get back to the large living room, but when she walks around the couch and looks at Enzo, she can tell that he's passed out. Eyes closed, the tension has left his body, his breathing a lot calmer than before, and she has to admit that she's almost a bit glad about him being unconscious. Having to try and sew his torn muscle and skin together doesn't sound like fun to begin with, but with him wide awake for it? She doesn't want to become just another person who has tortured him.

Her throat protests as she tries to swallow, and she has to make a detour to drink some of the water, then eat a few spoonfuls of the soup before she starts feeling any fainter than she already does. It won't help anyone if she passes out too.

It doesn't do much, but at least she feels a bit more steady when she sits down next to Enzo again and begins scrutinizing his leg. Some of the gashes are awfully gaping. She has no idea what she's supposed to do about it. Just randomly sewing it together sounds like a bad idea. She tries to remember things from when she helped Elena study for her tests, all the while beginning to sterilize the thread, the needle and scissors, then her hands, then the wounds.

Taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes for a few seconds, then opens them, ready to get on with her task. She'll do intermittent sutures, making sure that the entire gash gets closed. Once that's done, she will finally be able to put the lichen paste onto the wounds, then wrap it all up.

Should be interesting, she thinks, forcing herself to not think so much anymore and just do.

.

It takes forever, but eventually, she gets it done. Triumphantly, she puts away the needle, tying off the last suture, then inspects her handywork.

Shooting a quick glance up at Enzo's face, she sees that his eyes are still closed and she lets herself slump into the cushions right next to him, her shoulder touching his. It's a good thing he didn't wake up through her ministrations, because she's pretty damn certain she did a bit of a butcher's job.

"Thank you, Bonnie Bennett," he mutters beside her, so abruptly that she startles up a bit in shock. Turning her head to stare at him, she sees him smiling at her briefly before his expression changes again and he lets out a long breath that sounds like he's been holding it forever.

Narrowing her eyes, she frowns at him. "How long have you been conscious? You didn't feel me do this, did you? Because if you did…"

"It's alright, love. You did a great job. Barely even hurt." He grins, but only for a second before the expression slips off his too pale face again, and she presses her lips together, unsure of what to think. He's obviously lying, they both know that, and he's evaded her question so she can't be sure when he even came to. But she's not going to press the issue, because ignorance is bliss and she really doesn't need to hear that he's felt her dig into his flesh for the last hour or however long it has taken her.

Time is a weird concept; everything feels like it's taking too long, and she feels so awful now that she can't even be bothered with cleaning up the mess around them. A warm hazy feeling is beginning to slowly drag her down. She can tell that she's dozing off right next to him, and she doesn't even care, she's so ready to just…

"Tell me what happened. With Damon…" His voice jolts her back from the precipice of sleep and she glares up at him with annoyance, trying to keep her eyes from closing again.

"Really? You can't let it go, huh? Can't give me a break."

"You said-"

"I know what I said," she interrupts him, the annoyance making her wake up more, and she pushes herself up a little, growing frustrated when she realizes that she is too weak to get up. She needs a moment, and this idiot can't leave her be?

But alright. If he's so desperate to hear this story, then she'll give it to him.

"Fine," she therefore snaps, glaring at his smug expression, feeling the old anger come back that she's felt so often in the past, when he wouldn't ever leave her alone, and she has to look away so as not to explode. He's a nuisance, and he knows it. "But don't turn all psychotic vampire lunatic on me when I'm done," she adds, "Because this has sucked enough without you throwing one of your stupid tantrums. Damon wasn't just your friend, he was mine, too. Believe it or not. He was _my_ best friend too for a while there…"

Angrily, she wipes at a few tears that are betraying her, are slipping down her cheeks, and she half expects him to make a stupid comment, say something snippy and aloof, but when he remains uncharacteristically quiet, she looks at him again, his gaze trained on her, unreadable yet again, but with a hint of… hurt.

Good. Because this story is not going to be a very uplifting one…


	6. A look into the past

…

Bonnie doesn't know what to tell Enzo. So she starts at the beginning, her voice catching, feeling raw in her throat, and when he offers her the bottle, she takes a couple large sips before handing it back.

"You might want to have another shot, too," she says, and so he does, his gaze boring into her all the while.

Then she continues with her story…

* * *

...

* * *

…

Damon's hand is holding Bonnie's when the light engulfs them, and it's a strange comfort to know she doesn't have to do this alone, doesn't have to die alone, smothered by the collapse of the Other Side or whisked into oblivion by whatever power is coming to get her.

But when that too bright light comes and washes over them, it doesn't feel like death at all. It doesn't feel like the end.

And then it isn't.

With a fierce power, a whirling wind tugging and tearing at them, the atmosphere seems to rip open around them, and Bonnie exchanges a glance with Damon, in a panic tightening her grip on his hand.

The veil seems to get lifted, and she's distinctly aware that she's now in the world of the living again completely, the haziness of the Other Side gone, and she can see Elena, Stefan, can see Caroline, Enzo walking off, just a silhouette against the dark of the forest. She can see them all, and then…

A gleaming blazing rift opens up before her, then another, the world awhirl with a strange storm, supernatural beings getting torn away and pulled into whatever lies beneath, and she doesn't know what she's doing, what she's supposed to be doing, looking to Damon as if for advice.

"Do something, Bon!" he yells. But what? What is she supposed to be doing?

"I don't know what's happening!" she hollers back, her panic only growing as she wonders whether this collapse is also going to devour the entire world around them. What if without the Other Side nothing can survive?

With a harsh hissing noise, the light vanishes, most of the rifts being closed in its wake, most, except for one…

A terrifying booming sound reaches Bonnie's ears, and she tries to huddle closer to Damon beside her as the air around them begins to vibrate. Their friends are all still there, but far away, a desperate Elena calling out to her boyfriend, held back by Stefan, who is yelling something at his brother, at Bonnie too, but they can't hear him, it's so loud.

Damon beside her shrugs, then…

A stampede of hideous looking creatures, half werewolf, half something else breaks through the last remaining rift, roaring out like an avalanche threatening to swallow them all.

With a look at Damon, she stands there, allowing him to pull her in for a brief and unexpected hug as these beasts come racing toward them, too fast. She needs to do something, to stop this. Channeling whatever powers she has, she tries to stave the outpour of beasts, still feeling Damon hold on to her, steadying her as a wave of power surges out of her and toward the rift.

Their friends, their families are so very far away now.

And then… they're gone. The monsters, their friends, everyone.

And only Bonnie and Damon are left.

…

For a long time, they're lost in this new world, two people - a vampire and a witch - trying to figure out how to survive, to understand what has happened, where their friends are.

At first, Bonnie can't stand the fact that of all people, it's Damon Salvatore who is still here. Why couldn't it have been Jeremy, or one of her best girlfriends. Why him?

He's a vampire, an obnoxious one to boot, and even in this post-apocalyptic world he's still his cocky never serious self, and it grows old real fast.

But as the days go by and they slowly begin to adjust, begin to realize that they need each other if they want to make it, she finds herself starting to not only tolerate him, but… like him.

He's funny. He keeps her from succumbing to her despair. His will to find Elena and Stefan is what keeps her going, too, his determined belief that they'll find them alive so contagious that she eventually allows herself to hope that maybe Jeremy is still out there, too. And Caroline…

* * *

…

* * *

...

Bonnie can't tell Enzo this next part. She's a bit ashamed of it perhaps, even though she also isn't...

They were together alone. They were missing the people they loved. They were desperate and in need of comfort.

They… slept together.

She still remembers staring over Damon's shoulder and at the ceiling above when they have sex on her bed, remembers her mind wandering off, not staying in the moment, because while it is sort of soothing, it isn't what she really wants.

Not with Damon Salvatore. And he… he doesn't really want her either. He wants Elena. Always Elena.

They don't speak about it after, never mention it. It happens a few more times, but then it fizzles out like a flame that doesn't have enough oxygen. And she doesn't miss it.

* * *

…

* * *

...

They have made her home their base because his reminds him too much of Stefan, of Elena, and every day they leave to comb the area.

Then, one day, they leave for good, following the roads out of town for traces of their friends, a way out of this mess.

With the new dangers lurking everywhere, they need to be careful. There's Rh'a everywhere, scary beasts that are larger than werewolves and just as deadly, and other supernatural creatures they have never seen before.

In a first wave following the collapse, these monsters have decimated the human population so horribly that Bonnie and Damon barely ever meet anyone anymore. They don't know how many people are left on this planet, but it's way less than before.

Way way less…

It's not all that surprising to find out that the non-supernaturals have begun to come up with ways to bind any and all supernatural powers, but when they get caught eventually, too, Bonnie is still shocked.

Because it's Matt Donovan who comes up behind her and Damon, watching as his comrades taser her and dagger Damon, roughly putting strange looking metal collars around their necks.

"What are you doing?" she gasps out, clutching at the awful ring, not understanding, and the sad look Matt gives her only makes her angry. He's supposed to be her friend.

"I'm sorry, Bonnie. But we can't be careful enough," he says, not doing anything as she tries to fight against the people still holding her down, tries to use her magic and fails. The collar is doing something to her, is inhibiting her powers…

"What is this?!"

Matt's adam's apple bobs as he visibly swallows, jerking his head. "We found a way to control the beasts," he explains, a trace of regret in his voice when he continues, "It works on all supernatural beings, and… with your history, we figured it'd be a lot safer for all of us if we collared you too."

"Wow, you're a great friend, Mattie," Damon quips with a raise of his eyebrow when he's come back around. "Are you telling us you specifically hunted BonBon here down to put one of your fancy toys around her neck?"

Matt turns to face him, and Bonnie bristles as she is finally let go, Damon quickly helping her back up, wrapping her in his arms as protectively as possible.

"And around yours," Matt says with a sneer, making Damon roll his eyes. "Bonnie. I'm sorry, but you should understand. That rift you created-"

"She didn't create anything! It's not her fault she-"

Matt glares at Damon speaking over him, "That rift appeared because of that Other Side collapsing, didn't it? That place Bonnie was supposed to be guarding or whatever it is she was doing! And now we're left with the consequences. _You _brought us the Rh'a," he says heatedly, "and you know how much we've lost because of them. How many people have perished. _Millions_."

The look he gives her is burning with accusation, and she can't blame him because deep down she thinks it's her fault, too. All these people gone, the Rh'a roaming the country...

It's a stupid name - Rh'a - like something out of a cheap SciFi movie, but in a way Bonnie finds it rather fitting, because with it's glottal stop and two sounding letters it kind of sounds exactly like the weird chopped off roaring noise they make when they prey upon the living. It's a terrifying noise.

Damon clicks his tongue. "Like I said, it's not her fault. The friggin' Other Side tore that rift into the cosmos or whatever the hell it is that happened, no one even knows."

"She was there." Matt glares at him and Damon glares right back, and all the while Bonnie stands there frozen, not sure what to think or do. There's a collar around her neck now, just like around the necks of the monsters. The non-supernatural humans are treating them like they're all the same: vampires, witches, Rh'a. Like she's a monster, too…

* * *

…

* * *

...

She won't ever quite understand what happens next, and trying to tell Enzo about it doesn't make it easier to get the how or when or why right.

There are a bunch of jumbled scenes in her head, and she's trying her best to put them into words...

* * *

…

* * *

...

Damon isn't one to back down, ever, certainly not to someone like Matt Donovan and the next thing she knows is that the vampire is at the human's throat, a jolt going through the small crowd surrounding them.

The collar is activated, Damon writhes, but like a rabid dog he doesn't let go, baring his fangs as he clutches Matt by the throat.

"Damon," she calls out but he doesn't react.

"You piece of shit don't honestly-"

"We have Elena," Matt chokes out, cutting Damon off, his hands grabbing the vampire's arms as he tries to shake him off, "and Stefan. If you want to see them..."

Abruptly, Damon lets go, his body writhing harder now, but then Matt raises a hand, nodding at a middle aged man behind him.

"Tripp, enough."

At hearing the name, the man finally takes his finger off the device he has been holding and exchanges a glance with Matt.

"Donovan," the man called Tripp says, "This one should be fodder for the Rh'a." A snarl turns his face into a grimace and Bonnie's heart stops as she looks from him to Matt, then back.

"No," she says, shaking her head, stumbling forward to kneel down beside where Damon has gone down on his knees, panting. "Matt, you can't do that. You-"

"Elena," Damon wheezes out, ignoring all of them but Matt, "Where is she? Where's Stefan?"

"If you want to find out, you'll have to come with us."

...

It's after 93 days and under less than ideal circumstances that they are finally reunited with those that are left of their friends and families.

Matt brings them over to a large warehouse full of makeshift cells that are full of caged supernatural beings.

Stefan is there, Elena, Caroline. That's all. The rest of their friends... are gone. Matt puts them in a cell together, promising them that they'll all be let go as soon as they've been collared.

Bonnie shrugs awkwardly as she watches Damon reunite with Elena, then his brother. She clings to Caroline when her friend hugs her tightly, sniffling into her shoulder.

"I thought you were dead," the blonde says, crying, and Bonnie's grip on her tightens. "They're all dead, Tyler… Jeremy…"

Bonnie doesn't even know how or what to feel at the news because deep down she already knew, deep down, she feels like she's dead already, too.

As Caroline eventually sidles over to Stefan, his arms coming around her as he kisses her hair softly, Bonnie is left to feel like a third wheel. Things have changed a lot since the world as they knew it ended, changed into this new hell. While she is all alone now, Caroline and Stefan seem to have clung to each other, and now so do Damon and Elena, all of them trying to deal with the horrors they have encountered.

She's the only one still alone. It's not a nice feeling, it's lonely, and she feels a bit petty for feeling that way, but she can't help it. She almost wishes the days back when it was just her and Damon…

* * *

…

Of course the story doesn't end there. It gets worse.

Eventually, the posse of human pseudo-vigilantes come back, Matt and that man Tripp opening their cell with smug looks on their faces.

Some of the men behind them have collared Rh'a with them, leashes like they're nothing but oversized dogs. Bonnie shrinks against the far side of their cell, her friends doing the same.

Except for Damon of course.

"What's this?" he taunts, jerking his chin at Matt. "You brought your puppies to play? Are you that afraid of us? Come on, Donovan, you collared us like we're livestock. We couldn't hurt you if we wanted to - and believe me, I for one really do…" He shoots Matt a pointed glare, Elena's hands grabbing at his arm, pulling him back.

"He's not worth it," she says.

Matt shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "I'll let you deal with them," he tells Tripp, then turns to look at his former friends one last time. "Adhere to the rules, and you'll be fine. I do still care about you all-"

"Keep telling yourself that." Damon's grin holds nothing but hatred, and no one else even knows what to say. Bonnie certainly doesn't. She and Matt were always sceptical of the vampires, hated them, even. But he's taken it all one step further when she has started to come around and see that there's more to this world than black and white. That their friends are still primarily their friends, no matter what they are.

Matt doesn't stay. He's already gone by the time his companion, Tripp, walks deeper into their cell, the men with Rh'a following closely as he sneers at them all.

"Donovan may have a soft spot for you lot, but I don't. One wrong move, and I'll sic these on you."

"I want to see how cocky you are without your puppy parade backing you up."

"Damon, don't," Stefan mutters, shaking his head, and it's the last thing Bonnie remembers clearly about that day. The last thing.

The rest… a jumble of images and words and thoughts.

They are being escorted out. The men begin touching the girls, harassing them, treating them like prey. Bonnie feels hands all over her, groping, then kissing noises too close to her ear. She tries to back away, seeing the same thing happening to Elena and Caroline.

And then… Damon exploding. A roar of anger breaking out of him.

"Do not touch them! Rein your fucking goons back in or I swear-"

She's not sure what's happening, whether the Rh'a are let go on purpose or are breaking free, but the next thing she knows, Damon is shoving her and Elena into a cell, before the beasts come at him, at them, and a terrible scream escapes him as they tear into him, his collar making it impossible for him to escape.

"Stop! Stop! _Stooooop!"_

Someone yells, maybe Elena, maybe Bonnie, maybe Stefan or Caroline, or Damon. Maybe all of them.

No, Damon isn't yelling anymore. He's suddenly awfully quiet.

Everything is suddenly awfully quiet, an eerie silence spreading as the non-supernaturals pull their beasts back, and retreat.

"You may go now," Tripp says, raising his chin as he stares at them all, Stefan on the ground next to his brother, Caroline tugging at the cell door behind which Bonnie and Elena stand frozen, the latter wailing, racing out as soon as the door gives. "Remember this day. This is what happens when you don't show respect, when you cross the line."

* * *

…

* * *

...

Bonnie has to go on with her story, because she can't look at Enzo right now. The bottle of bourbon is almost empty, and she has had most of it. The vampire beside her doesn't make a sound, but she can feel his gaze still on her as she stares into the fire, the shivers raking her body picking up.

She's so cold now, so awfully cold, and she's not sure whether it's because of her story, or the sickness spreading in her body. She doesn't even mind the arm coming around her, pulling her in, because his warmth is the only comfort she now has...

* * *

…

* * *

...

They can't do much for Damon.

Stefan carries him home, to the Salvatore boarding house, carries him all the way upstairs to his luxurious bedroom, not caring that it will stain the fancy satin sheets.

Elena crawls into bed with Damon, caressing his pale, pale cheeks, whispering to him as Bonnie and Caroline and Stefan try to attend to the horrible wounds.

Both legs are gone, torn off, his body riddled with scratches. But the worst is the large bite on his torso, because it's the bites that are toxic…

He's in agony for days, even though they're trying everything to help him, make it better.

* * *

...

* * *

…

"I guess that's my payback for all the awful things I did," Damon jokes at some point. "Enzo would love this, he'd think it's only fair after what I did to him."

Bonnie won't tell him that bit, however. She has a feeling it would only hurt him more, so she'll keep it to herself. She's not that cruel.

* * *

…

* * *

...

Strangely, it's not the bite that kills him in the end. That is actually healing…

Bonnie is on her way to check on him when she hears a sudden anguished cry. Her heart jumping into her throat, she races up the last few stairs, stopping in her tracks abruptly when she gets to his room.

Elena is lying on the bed right next to Damon, as she's been doing every day, except now she is sobbing, her head buried against her boyfriend, her hands soaked in his blood.

"No," it escapes Bonnie, "Elena, what did you do?! He was getting better!" Bonnie doesn't realize she's crying too until Elena finally turns to look at her, streaks of tears running smudges down her cheeks.

"He wasn't, though," her friend says, "He wasn't."

"The bite was healing!"

Elena licks her lips, giving Bonnie a strange look, almost sympathetic.

"I know you loved him, too," she mutters in a seeming non-sequitur, and Bonnie feels a pang of something close to guilt at being called out like that. "I can't blame you," Elena continues with a sad, sad grin. "But since you did, you'll understand that he couldn't ever have lived like that. Without his legs… Not Damon."

Bonnie knows Elena's right. She knows it. But she doesn't want to see it.

"So you _killed_ him?! We could have-"

"He _asked_ me to! Okay? He asked me to."

"Does Stefan know?"

"What does it matter? Damon is gone. He's gone, Bonnie. He's…"

Sobs obliterate Elena's words, but Bonnie is still frozen in shock. Because Damon Salvatore is really dead.

* * *

…

She can't stay here anymore, at the boarding house. She can't. Not without him. So she leaves, goes back to her own home.

"Are you sure?" Caroline asks, and Bonnie nods.

"It's not far from here. We'll still see each other all the time."

As the blonde hugs her with a sad small smile, Bonnie already knows - fears - that they won't. Damon's death ruined something, everything.

"I love you, Bonnie."

"Love you, too, Care."

She doesn't know it then, but it will only be a few more days before they all leave the Salvatore boarding house, a week before Caroline seeks her out at her place, giving her a last embrace.

"Elena's gone. Stefan wants to go look for her. He's worried. And I'm coming with him…"

"Are you sure you want that?"

Caroline scoffs. "No, but… there's nothing here for me to stay for… - You should leave, too, Bonnie."

"Maybe I will."

* * *

…

* * *

...

"But you never did," Enzo mutters, and Bonnie turns her head to the side and up a bit to look at him, an upset smile on her face as she meets his frown.

"No," she allows, a lump lodging in her throat that makes speaking even harder, and she feels the sickness tug at her with insistence, her whole body feeling awful. Taking a deep breath, she lets it out in a shudder, forcing herself to get up off the couch.

She's glad that he doesn't pester her with questions, doesn't hound her for details, because for now she's done talking about it, done reliving it all.

Once on her feet, a sudden wave of dizziness washes over her again, just like earlier, and she puts the bottle of bourbon on the coffee table quickly as she tries to keep herself from swaying.

"Bonnie, are you alright?"

No, she isn't.

"Yeah, just a bit woozy. I should probably…" Trailing off, she points in the direction of her makeshift bedstead in front of the fire, Enzo beginning to blur in her view. Her head is pounding so badly… Clutching at it, she stumbles, telling herself that she can't pass out again, that she needs to keep it together.

Screw that.

"I'm really not feeling so great…"

She can feel his arms coming around her as her legs give out, and she clings to consciousness desperately as she finds her head resting against his chest, a warm firm hand stroking her hair out of her face for her. It feels so nice...

"I'm fine," she mumbles, trying to stand up, anyway, to bat him away, but it's useless - and who is she kidding, anyways, right? She can't stand up on her own anymore.

"You're clearly not, love. Come on, let's get you to lie down…"

It's a mystery to her how he even manages to carry his own weight on his injured leg, let alone hers on top of that, but she's too weak to ask questions, too drowsy to care. And when he finally gently lays her down on her pile of blankets, tucking her in like a child, she stares up at him out of feverish eyes and clutches his wrist before he can stand back up again. A strange sense of urgent desperation has taken ahold of her that she simply can't shake.

"Don't leave me," she begs, her conscience fading, "please don't leave me…"

She doesn't see his half bemused, half affectionate look anymore, but she feels him eventually lie down next to her, hears his low voice follow her into sleep, strangely soothing.

"I'm not going anywhere, Bonnie Bennett…"


	7. Fever

…

He's strangely relieved when Bonnie eventually drifts off into a deep sleep, the awful shivers slowly subsiding. Her features are softening, her grip on his wrist loosening. But she's not letting go of him, even in sleep, and he has to smile at that, if only for a moment. Because for some odd reason, he doesn't mind being trapped by this girl.

Sighing, he tries to get comfortable, too, keeping his distance. Her hand on his wrist the only parts touching, they lay there together, and eventually, he closes his eyes, too, allowing himself to let his guard down a bit. Just a little - because he's not feeling all too hot either. The fever is doing a number on him, that weak and lousy feeling something he's not used to anymore, and his mind is awhirl with Bonnie Bennett's awful story.

Damon is truly dead, and he still can't quite believe it. _How_ he died… Losing his legs… A wave of nausea comes over him at the thought, at the realization that he, too, is rather close to losing at least one of his legs - if not his life. There's still a big chance for that, too, for him to not make it. No one survives the Rh'a after all. But he's not ready yet to let go of this world, just like this girl right here with him is not ready to let go of his arm. Maybe there's a metaphor hidden in there, but he can't quite decipher it. His thoughts are growing too sluggish.

He has to fight this, he knows that much, has to fight by Bonnie Bennett's side again like once before, though maybe he can start tomorrow. Because right now he can't fight anymore. He simply can't.

* * *

…

When Bonnie wakes up again and opens her eyes, the first thing she sees is… Enzo St. John, lying so close to her that his arm is across her, her head resting against his and she abruptly jolts away a bit, carefully moving his arm. Relieved when he doesn't stir, just keeps sleeping, she swallows, wincing at the awful sensation it causes.

She can only imagine his ridiculous comments if he had caught them lying like that. Scoffing, she tries to pull herself up more, sheepishly shooting him another sideways glance when she realizes that she's still holding his wrist with her other hand. Unclasping her grip, she finally sits up, briefly placing a palm against his forehead. He feels a little cooler, which is good. Unless it's only because her own fever is worse, she can't quite tell...

Letting her gaze wander over to the fire, she notices that it is barely still burning, There are some embers left glowing, but most logs have turned to ashes and she knows it's time to tend to it or it will go out - which would not be good with the damn cold out there - or in her body.

Licking her too dry lips, she tries to assess her own situation. Her head is still pounding, breathing through the nose impossible. Her legs, her arms, her entire body is aching awfully. And she really needs the bathroom or her bladder is going to explode.

Grimacing at the mere thought of having to try and get up to walk down the hallway, she eventually forces herself to get a grip. It's just a few feet away, surely she can manage that. So she slowly begins to move, deciding to take care of business first, then of the fire.

.

She's almost done, just about to wash her hands, when a horrible sense of vertigo comes over her, and she tries to clutch the sink for support as the world begins to tilt, growing dark. A sudden panic grips her, as if she is about to die, and she can't help but call out to the one person she knows can hear her, can help her.

"Enzo?"

She's not feeling good at all. What if this is really pneumonia and she can't get medical help? What if she's dying? What…

"Enzo?!"

The panic makes her try and rush out of the bath and to him. Being alone is suddenly the worst feeling she's ever had, and she doesn't want to die alone, doesn't want…

"Enzo?!" She's choking his name out, her throat constricting, but the stupid vampire doesn't seem to hear her.

Breaking out in a cold sweat, her vision almost blackened, she stumbles on, her fingers tracing the wall to find her way, but she's so lost, she doesn't even know where she's going anymore.

"Enzo!"

If only someone else was here.

Her heart is beating erratically, scaring her more, and she can't breathe properly, can't function, can't… stand…

She's trying to soften her own fall, trying to go down on her knees first, feeling the cool floor underneath her fingertips, then abruptly against her cheek and she doesn't even know when that happened, why she's suddenly lying on the ground, but it feels a tiny bit better than before so at least there's that. If only the world would stop spinning.

Without any idea how long she is lying on the floor, she suddenly feels herself being lifted, hears someone softly but insistently say her name.

"Bonnie. - Bonnie?"

She opens her eyes - when did she close them? - to stare at him, Damon's Augustine friend, the one familiar face still around, still friendly. But there's a big frown knitting his brows together now, and she finds herself lifting a hand to stroke over it with a finger, trying to smooth it.

"You always look sad or angry," she notes, barely quite understanding why she's saying that, or doing what she's doing. "But I guess so would I if I had had your life…"

"You're delirious, love." He has a surprisingly cute smile… "We need to get your fever down."

She smiles back, feeling light as a feather. And what an apt description that is, light as a feather. Feathers are soft, too. She feels soft and airy, and…

Abruptly, an icy cold encompasses her and she stares up at Enzo with a sense of shock and betrayal. Because she's not floating like a feather anymore, she is lying in the middle of the white cold snow outside and it's not a good feeling.

"It's too cold," she whines, clutching at Enzo's shirt, staring into his unreadable dark eyes, and the worried frown and half-smile he gives her in return confuse her so much that she doesn't know whether she should really be angry at him or try to understand his motives.

Anger wins.

"What the hell are you doing? Help me… up."

"Can't, love. Not yet. We need to get your temperature down first. You're burning up."

"I'm so cold."

"I know…" He is holding her, one hand against her neck, a thumb stroking her cheek, the other hand gently pushing her down so she doesn't fight her way up, and the concern in his features seems so genuine that it surprises her. Even in her current state, with her mind all jumbled, she can appreciate that he's not doing this to hurt her. He's trying to bring her fever down…

Looking around as best as she can, she sees the house just a little behind them, and when she stares back up at Enzo, he briefly shrugs.

"This was faster than trying to fill the bathtub with ice water," he tells her, and she rolls her eyes, stopping when it hurts too much.

"I would have killed you if you had put me back in freezing water." She glowers at him, still fisting his shirt.

That smile is back on his face. "I don't doubt it," he says, "But I had to do _some_thing."

"And this was your best idea?"

Shrugging, he just smiles at her, and she is too weak to argue. That anger from just a minute ago has fizzled out already anyways.

"I found you passed out in the hallway."

"I called you," she says, feeling a bit stupid now, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"I heard you. I'm sorry I wasn't there faster." Making a face, he averts his gaze, and it's then that she realizes why it took him so long. He wasn't only asleep, his leg is of course also still badly injured.

"It's okay," she therefore allows, so quiet that she can't know he even hears her, "_I _am sorry I made you get up."

He shouldn't be allowed to smile when she's feeling like this, not quite herself and vulnerable. It does weird things to her that she can't exactly make sense of.

"Exercise is good, they say."

"Do they now?"

He nods, smirking at her. "Helps the healing process."

It's so cold her teeth are chattering, but strangely, she is starting to feel better despite of it. Enzo was probably right, her fever just needed to be brought down and he chose the best and quickest way.

"So it _is _healing?" she then asks, stumbling over the word he used, her mind beginning to work better again.

He seems to be mulling his reply over before speaking. "I'm not dead yet," he eventually allows, "and I don't have a fever anymore."

It's that last statement that makes her realize just how significant that is. Maybe his leg isn't feeling or looking much better, but the fever is what the Rh'a venom usually brings on, it's what kills, and if his fever is down, is gone, maybe it does mean that he has a chance to survive this after all. Maybe she won't have to watch him die…

"I'm so tired," she abruptly realizes, and the touch of both his hands cupping her face feels soothing and comforting, probably a little too much.

"Just a little longer, love. You're already doing much better."

Growing restless again, she stares up at him with urgency when she remembers the world around them more. "We gotta make sure no one catches us out here," she says, her grip on his shirt tightening once more, "There's still an old spell around the boarding house, keeping the Rh'a from being able to enter, but out here…"

"I know. I'll keep an eye out for anything moving."

His thumb is still stroking her cheek as he looks down on her, and the tenderness she treats her with is a welcome change from pace. It's also very unexpected.

"You're different than I thought…"

Raising an eyebrow, he cocks his head to look at her. "Is that a good thing? You didn't seem to like me very much before…"

She grins at him weakly, her eyelids beginning to grow heavy again, and she has to force herself to stay awake.

"You weren't exactly my favorite company," she admits, not that that would surprise anyone, and he's actually chuckling at her words, until she goes on, unable to help herself. "I mean, you threatened me and my friends, you almost killed my boyfriend… Damon and you… were bringing out the worst in each other. - And then you wouldn't leave me alone once you were on the Other Side."

Seeing the strange expression on his face, more guarded and withdrawn again, harsher, she falls silent again, deciding it's best to stop before she brings out that psychotic streak she knows he has in him. Besides, her pounding head is finally feeling a ton better, and that makes her even sleepier. Like, finally she'll be able to get some actual rest…

He really does look almost hurt, making her feel a pang of… guilt, as weird as that is. She actually feels a little sorry for her words.

"I'm sorry," she therefore mutters.

"No, you're right." Just that, nothing more.

"I really want to go back in now. I'm so cold…"

"Of course."

He's curt, helps her up with gentle movements, pulling her to her feet first, until her head rests against him. She's still so weak, unable to walk on her own, even though she really wishes she could. Something has changed between them, a sudden cool distance back that wasn't there just minutes before - or maybe it was and she's just kidding herself, and she doesn't want to rely on him, but she does. She still needs him.

"I'm not sure I can…"

Bonnie doesn't even get to finish her sentence before he picks her up, cradling her in his arms like a groom his bride, and even though she feels a bit ridiculous, she slings her arms around his neck, gazing up at him as he begins walking back toward the house - or rather, limping heavily.

"Enzo. I should probably try to walk, you can barely-"

"I'm fine, love. I got you."

"I can-"

"I got you." More insistently. A flicker goes through his eyes as he looks at her now, and she feels her heart skip a beat. There's so much awkwardness between them… And there are a million things she needs to say, should say. But what she settles on for now is just,

"Thank you."

And there it is again: a hint of that smile playing across his features, tugging at his lips, making his eyes light up - and Bonnie can't help but smile back...


	8. Feed

_This story is coming a bit slow, maybe because it's summer now (well, over here, anyways)..._

_There's probably only two people actually interested in it anyways, so I'm dedicating this chapter to Jade and deenew for being awesome and letting me know someone is reading this and providing some much needed feedback. You guys are awesome!_

_In my dream world, Bonenzo have a lot more support, but I'm also like, three years too late now, so there's that. :)_

_I'll keep holding up my torch for them._

* * *

…

He doesn't quite know what this is, this… _thing _with Bonnie Bennett. He doesn't even care for her all that much. Or, he didn't used to, because clearly that has changed.

Scoffing to himself, he tries to get comfortable where he has flopped down in front of the fire, poking the flames to encourage them to grow, acutely aware of her stare boring into his back from where she is lying on her heap of blankets behind him.

It feels good to not be alone, he realizes, but it's also… mildly unnerving. For the last six months he's evaded any and all contact to other living beings, and it has saved him from a lot of things, saved him from getting collared, too, something he thought was worth it. But now he's not so sure anymore…

"You trying to kill it or burn us or something?"

Startling, he turns a bit so he can face her, frowning as he does.

"What?"

She jerks her chin weakly, a hint of annoyance in her features. "The fire," she amends, "If you keep stabbing at it, the logs are just gonna fall out and set the house on fire."

Chuckling softly, he nods. He can take a hint. She's not wrong. The fire doesn't need his assistance anymore. It has been burning again for a while, he just… zoned out there for a bit. Because Bonnie Bennett's closeness sets him on edge.

"Come over here. Lie down."

It's an order, more strength in her words, and he's tempted to follow suit, but then he shakes his head, smiling at her.

"I'll make us something to eat. You need sustenance and I…"

"Is there still any blood in the freezer?"

His lips move as if of their own accord, a wry expression coming over him, and she instantly reads him right, something he isn't used to, either. People don't normally see through him.

"Well," she says, "that's a problem."

He wags an eyebrow at her. "Not for you."

"You could decide I'm a good food source." The pointed stare she gives him makes him laugh involuntarily, and when he looks at her again, her expression has changed completely. There's surprise there, or marvel, he doesn't know why, and a genuine smile making her look a lot livelier.

For a moment he just stares at her, until he pulls himself out of it, forcing himself to get moving. The pain shooting up from his foot, then leg is almost welcoming, distracting him from his confused state.

"You have nothing to fear from me, Bonnie Bennett. I solemnly swear I won't feed on you."

"Not even if we can't get you anything - any_one _else to feed on?"

"Not even then."

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes. "Yeah, sorry if I don't believe that. You haven't exactly been trustworthy before."

Her words hurt more than he is willing to admit. She has a point, of course. It's just… he'd like to not be that guy for once - the one everyone sees as a threat, finds tedious and calls a liar…

There was a time when he wasn't that.

But then life happened - or rather, death and a vampire and decades of torture - and now he can't be trustworthy anymore, because he doesn't know how to trust. And being a threat is easier than feeling threatened…

"Enzo? You alright?"

Her soft voice jolts him back just as the darkness is beginning to drag him down an old road of sorrow, and he smiles at her wanly.

"Peachy, love. Excuse me. I'll be in the kitchen."

With that, he walks out, leaving her behind, using first the mantelpiece, then the wall to steady himself and take some weight off his throbbing leg.

He needs the pain now.

But he also needs it to stop…

* * *

…

Closing her eyes, Bonnie allows herself to snuggle deeper into her blankets, welcoming the warmth after the cold of the snow. She's back in some of her own clothes, grateful now that she kept some here when she left this place months ago…

She wants to doze off, let exhaustion pull her under, but when she's almost gone, the thought of _him_ wakes her up again, and pressing her lips together in frustration she tries to block it out, block him out, but she can't.

That laugh of his… It was so genuine, so light…

Sobering, she remembers something else. Enzo will need blood. If Damon's stash is really gone, they'll have to find him some elsewhere. But with her still out of commission and him… limping the way he does that's not going to happen.

Cursing inwardly, she grits her teeth. She's going to allow him to feed on her, isn't she? Oh yes, she is… Because clearly she is an idiot. And his proximity is doing something strange to her. Gosh, she must really be starved for company if she's so willing to let go of her standards for Enzo St. John, for a stupid homicidal maniac.

Who did everything to save her…

Biting her lip, she pulls the blanket up and over her face, the urge to hide so strong that she can't help it. Now would be a good time for someone else to be the voice of reason, because clearly, Bonnie Bennett isn't. She is losing it…

.

The next moment she consciously experiences seems to be hours later, and she frowns when her eyes open to find a little tray right before her on the ground, with more soup, and some bread and it smells like he baked it himself.

Does Enzo bake? She hadn't pegged him for someone who cares much about making his own food, but maybe she was mistaken.

Maybe she really doesn't know him at all.

"Welcome back, love."

That accent, though… It sends a weird shiver through her body, a prickle. She wants to blame her cold, the fever, but when she lifts a hand to press her wrist against her forehead, she realizes that it doesn't seem so hot anymore. She even feels better. A lot. Except for her throat. Coughing as if on cue, she tries to push herself into a sitting position, coughing into the crook of her arm.

"Ow," she makes, grimacing before she looks up at Enzo - who is back on the couch, though this time lying, with his head against one of the armrests. For some reason he looks both better and worse than before, and it doesn't take rocket science to know why.

"How starved are you?" she asks and the amusement playing around the corners of his mouth, twinkling in his eyes is irritating her a little.

"Not as bad as you probably are after sleeping that long…"

Frowning warily, she tries to catch a glimpse of the world outside, as if that could help her tell the time, then she gives up and just asks, "How long was I out for?"

"Almost two days… Gave me enough time to go through the pantry and make you a soup from scratch and some bread. You should really have some."

"You made soup from scratch."

He raises an eyebrow, that smirk of his still in place, still making her insides squirm weirdly.

"_You_," she stresses, disbelief apparently obvious in her features because he begins to push himself up, his unrelenting stare on her.

"Is it that surprising to you?"

"Yeah!?" She scoffs, and still he is smirking. That vampire is… unnerving to say the least.

And cocky.

"There's many things you don't know about me."

"Same," she mumbles, rolling her eyes as she mutters to herself, "You're not as dark and mysterious as you think. Other people have secrets too."

"I don't doubt that," he replies, and the fact that he heard every word makes her huff in annoyance, but also sends another wave of prickles through her body. "Maybe one day I'll find out some more of yours."

He has the audacity to wink at her, and one of her hands flies up to her collar in a helpless gesture as she tries to stay focused.

She needs the bathroom, urgently, and the sudden memory of what happened last time she went makes her grow hot and cold for a moment. Pressing her lips together, she decides to not grace his last comment with a reaction, then slowly gets to her feet. Not too fast, because she fears the rush of blood to the head, fears the blackness returning.

Swaying a little, she takes a few deep breaths, nostrils flaring as she looks at him, squinting her eyes.

"Excuse me," she says, raising a finger as if to prove a point even though there is none. "I really need to…"

She watches mesmerized as he gets up off the couch, trying to use his superhuman speed and kind of succeeding, then offers her his arm like he's a gentleman in one of the cheesy romance movies she used to watch with Elena way back when the world was still in order and vampires nothing but story devices. But that would make her a lady, and she's not that. She's… woozy and needs to pee so bad that it could get awkward if she doesn't reach the bathroom soon. So she accepts the proffered arm and allows herself to lean on him as they begin walking.

"You sure your leg can handle the extra weight now?"

"You're light as a feather, love."

A feather… Scoffing at his words, she suddenly remembers feeling like a feather before, and it sends a surge of heat into her cheeks. Hopefully she didn't make a fool of herself in any of these last hours…

They make it to the bathroom without incident, and she's honestly a bit touched by how he's willing to take on the agony of walking just so she doesn't pass out in the hallway again. When they stop in front of the door, she's prepared to thank him for it, but then she looks up and their gazes meet and suddenly she forgets what she wanted to say.

His eyes are so dark, so full of… life. Swallowing, she averts her face, studying their still intertwined arms instead.

"I better take a shower," she eventually says, watching as he gently pulls away. When she risks another glance, there's a wide beaming smile on his face, and it makes her frown a bit. "That bad, huh?"

"You're fine, love. Don't worry. If you don't mind, though, I'll wait out here…"

"I think I'll manage now. I do feel a lot better than last time." That's more like it. She needs to at least pretend she's still a strong and independent woman. The sickness just kicked her down a bit before…

"Of course."

Letting go, she walks into the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click, and no look back.

.

But when she comes back out and he's still there, sitting on the ground with one leg pulled up, the injured one just resting, she smiles anyways.

"You did wait for me." She raises an eyebrow, hands against her hips, giving him the look, making him smile.

"Not for you, love," he says, and her gaze falls on the hand resting on the knee of his injured leg, then wanders up to his face. He's looking rather gaunt, and gray, and with a sigh, she lets herself flop to the ground right next to him. At the periphery of her vision she can see him shoot her a glance, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything, not even when she accidentally lands a bit close to him, not just her clothes brushing against his, but her shoulder connecting with his on the way down.

She decides to pretend it isn't weird.

"You need blood, don't you?" she says without preamble, catching the wry expression on his face before he looks down, then back up with a small smile plastered onto his face.

"I need many things. And I've gone without them all for a long time."

She rolls her eyes at his pseudo-cryptic talk.

"Yeah, I bet…" She rolls her eyes. How to say this? How to say it without it all becoming even more awkward than it already is? "Fine," she breathes, "You can have some of mine."

"Bonnie…"

Lifting a hand she stops him with a wave. "Just. Make sure you don't take too much. I intend to stay on this darn planet a little longer, no matter that it sucks here right now."

Subconsciously, she clutches at her collar, her gaze meeting his.

"I appreciate the offer, but no."

"No?" Her eyebrows are about to vanish into her hairline, they're raised so high. "Care to tell me what else you intend to do then?"

"Wait."

A man of many words. Her frustration is building, with him, with this world, with the fact that she's still sick and he's limping badly, and they're stuck in this house together for a little while longer.

"Wait?" Nodding as if she agrees, she mulls it over in her head, almost ready to let it go, let him get away with it, then she leans forward a little more, back stiffening as she pokes a finger into his chest. "No," she tells him, firmly, "you're not just gonna wait. You should be dead after that run in with the Rha, but you aren't. You're _lucky_. And you don't mess with luck. So now you're gonna have a few sips of my precious blood to make sure that your leg continues to heal. You need your strength to fight this."

He licks his lips, and Bonnie can't help but stare, suddenly wondering what they'll feel like against her skin.

"So do you."

"Excuse me?"

"You need your strength too."

Sniffing, she lifts her gaze until she's staring at the ceiling above them. At least that doesn't talk back.

"I'll be fine," she huffs, glaring at him before she tries a different approach. "Okay, how are we gonna do this? Since my neck is kinda… inconvenienced, how about my…" Her mind comes up with a ton of places she could envision him pricking his fangs into her, his lips against her thigh, nibbling on her ear, the rise of her breast- "_Wrist_?" she interrupts herself quickly and too loudly, pushing her arm forward a little too readily. "Wrist is good, right? Nice and easy."

His frown is kind of endearing.

No, it's not. It's… _not endearing._

"It's useless to argue with you, isn't it?"

A smile is her only reply because now she knows that she got him - and why is that even so important to her? Why does she suddenly care whether he lives or dies?

No, not suddenly. She's cared once before, and she still has no good explanation as to why. Why did she save him from oblivion back when the Other Side was beginning to collapse? Why did she grab his hand and clung to it when she could have let go? She didn't even like him then. (Does she now?)

Because he's a fighter, like she is, because he's fierce and angry and fate too cruel. That's why. He showed her that, showed her that even a homicidal and psychotic vampire has a smidgen of soul in him, something desperately craving…

"Love? - Bonnie?"

"What?"

He's stroking a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear, such a gentle caressing gesture. It's jarring, because they're not like that with each other, but a part of her suddenly half wishes that they were.

Gosh, she really needs it bad, doesn't she? If the world was still intact out there, she'd say she needs to go to a bar, get drunk, and get a guy to take her home. Get it out of her system. But the world is anything but intact and there's an injured vampire sitting next to her and she's an anti-supernatural-powers collared witch without her magic but with a nasty cold, and well, life sucks at the moment.

"Are you alright?"

She has to laugh at his concerned tone, so unlike the Enzo she knows from before. But then, she doesn't know what happened to him in the last six months. That amount of time can surely change someone, especially in this hell. It changed her...

"You're asking _me_ that? I should be asking you."

"You're the mortal with the awful cold."

"You're the _im_mortal that isn't so immortal after all and is currently infected with Rh'a venom…"

Her pointed stare makes him chuckle, which makes her… feel flustered. She hasn't really laughed with anyone since Damon died, until now…

"Touché," he says, that word she doesn't like, and rolling her eyes, she shoves her arm right under his nose.

"You're stalling. Drink."

Backing away slightly, until his head is resting against the wall behind him, he squints at her.

"We need to talk about that collar around your neck."

She scoffs. "Really? Now? Stop evading the real problem. Have a freaking sip first and then we can do all the talking you want."

"You're very adamant. One could think you enjoy the prospect of my teeth digging into your flesh…"

There's a hint of something close to seduction in his voice, in the way he looks at her and finally grabs her outstretched arm, caressing her wrist with his thumb, and Bonnie can only stare at him for a moment, mesmerized, before his words register with her and she throws back her head, pulling at her arm.

"Fine," she snaps, "Have it your way. I don't need to help you. You can go out there and try to find yourself an unlucky squirrel for all I care. If you can even manage on that leg. But I can tell you that I'm not going out there for you, at all, ever. Not even when I'm better." She shoots him what she thinks is a death glare, but the idiot has the audacity to smirk at her again, and it makes her breathing rate pick up. "What?!"

"You're kind of cute when you're angry."

"I'm… not cute." She bites the words out, gritting her teeth. She's done with the vampire now, ready to get up and storm away - if only her body was a little more compliant. Still, she tries to push herself up, shocked when Enzo abruptly grabs hold of her arm again, pulling her back down.

There's a new expression on his face, something even darker flickering in his eyes, a hunger, a need, and before she knows it, his veins are protruding a bit more in desperate desire, as if he suddenly remembered that he's not a nice guy or a gentleman and doesn't refuse a voluntary food source.

She really is an idiot, isn't she? Offering herself up like that…

Cocking his head, he takes her in, then brings her wrist to his lips so quickly that she gasps out in shock, barely even feeling the light prick of his canines as he opens her vein and then… drinks from her.

It's strangely sensual, the surge of blood, his soft lips against her skin, and she feels herself torn between enjoying it - and what is wrong with her? - and getting terrified.

.

But then the moment is over before it really began, and he lets go of her, averting his gaze, and Bonnie scoots away a little, eyeing him suspiciously as if he could change his mind now that he has had a taste of her.

They are quiet for a damn long time, too long, and eventually she breaks the silence.

"Better?"

His voice is incredibly low when he replies, so low that it makes her body vibrate. Or maybe that's something she just imagines…

"Yes, thank you…"

She watches as he gets up with achingly slow movements, every motion showing the pain he's still in. When he's finally standing, he extends an arm, offering her his hand.

"Shall we? - Come on, let's get you back to lie down before you pass out on me again."

Rolling her eyes, she takes his hand anyways, relieved when she feels that she's pretty steady on her legs, despite her depleted blood. He really didn't take much…

"You're trying to get me to do that a lot, Enzo St. John: lying down," she jokes, inwardly cursing at herself for saying something stupid like that, but he doesn't comment, just smiles back.

"You look better on a pile of blankets than on the cold hallway floor."

"I'll lie down if you do, too," she says, carefully avoiding to think about him finding her passed out before.

Interlinking her arm with his, she follows his lead, glancing up at him briefly where she can just see his smile vanish as he tries to take a few slow steps before stopping in his tracks.

"Come on," she cajoles, their roles suddenly reversed as she gently tugs at him, getting him to continue walking, "we'll have to take a look at that leg again."

"_You_ don't need to do anything other than get better, love."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather make sure you get better too, so… if you want me to get my much needed rest, you won't fight me on this now and be a compliant patient while I change the dressings and put some more of that paste on the gashes."

A cough makes her bend over a bit and they have to stop again, Enzo patiently waiting for her as she tries to catch her breath. When she's finally done, he looks at her with a sympathetic smile.

"Is there a chance we could do that _after _you-"

"Nope," she interrupts him, knowing that he just wants to procrastinate again, and she beams up at him, patting his arm. "Leg first, then rest."

Rolling his eyes, he huffs out, but doesn't object, and Bonnie decides to take that as a win.

...


	9. Whirlwind

…

"Have you tried taking it off?"

Bonnie turns her head slowly, looking up from her work. She's in the middle of cleaning Enzo's wounds again, finally ready to put more of the paste on, and he keeps going on and on about that stupid collar. He's trying to distract himself from the pain, she knows it, and that's the only reason why she hasn't snapped at him yet.

But he's getting on her nerves. As if this whole thing was her idea, wearing the collar. As if she wasn't pissed off by it, or angry at the people that put it on her.

Matt, and that man Tripp, and all their awful followers.

"What do you think?" she says now, unable to keep a hint of that anger out of her voice, but he doesn't comment.

"What did you do? Try to pry it open?"

"Something like that." She looks away again, forcing herself to focus on his leg instead of going back to past pains.

The injuries look better, which is not saying too much because the leg looked so bad before, though at least not as awful as Damon's stumps. An involuntary shiver comes over her at the memory and of course her company picks up on it instantly.

"Do you need a break, love? I can finish this up myself…"

"You'd just manage to butcher it. No, I got it. And I'm fine…"

"If you're sure…"

"I am." She shoots him a glare that he answers with one of his obnoxious smiles and she can't but huff in annoyance. "Hold still. I don't want to accidentally stab you."

"So considerate…"

"Enzo." Her tone is warning - which doesn't keep him from speaking, much to her chagrin.

"So, let's come up with a plan to get it off." He pauses briefly, their gazes meeting as she looks up with a squint. "The collar," he amends before she can say anything and she has to smile despite herself.

"Trust me, I've tried everything. I went at it with a crowbar, with a saw, I tried magic objects, acids… I think at this point it's safe to say the thing won't come off unless they want it to, or when I'm dead. And the chances for the latter happening are definitely higher."

"Electricity?"

She sighs, beginning to wrap a fresh bandage around his foot, making him suck in air.

"I'm sorry," she mutters, keeping her eyes on his marred flesh, "there's no way I can do this any more careful."

"It's fine, love. I've had worse."

"I don't doubt that…" One thing she has sworn herself is to not again trivialize the fact that he got tortured in the past. It's too easy to see them - vampires - as evil and deserving of all the pain in the world, but… if her friends have taught her anything, it's that the world is not as black and white as she once thought and no one deserves to be put through so much pain, not even a vampire.

"We could try to override the lock mechanism," he goes on as if they are just sitting together having a cup of tea, idly conversing about the weather or sports or… anything but the bane of her existence.

"It won't come off." Her tone is clipped, because she's starting to get really fed up with him. Why can't he just shut up about this? False hope won't do anyone any good.

"Have you tried it then? Shorting the circuit?"

"No," she admits grudgingly, feeling the need to defend herself. "But for all I know some witch put a spell on these things and-"

"Oh, most certainly," he interrupts her way too nonchalantly. "But the spell only works as long as the collar is closed around your neck. If we were to get it to open…" He trails off as she stares at him with sudden realization making her frown.

"What do you mean, 'most certainly'?" she asks, picking up on his absolute conviction. "Do you know something I don't? Do you know who made these?" Letting go of his leg for a moment, she touches her collar, with her eyes piercing him.

He shrugs, leaning back a little more. His hands are balled into fists, surely because of the pain, but other than that it's hard to read him, hard to know what goes on behind his facade.

"I might have been to a place where they manufacture them."

"And you tell me that now?! Did you at least try and blow the freaking place up?"

"No."

"What a freaking selfish douche you are! If it doesn't concern you directly, you don't care, do you?"

Exasperated, she clenches her own hands into fists before forcing herself to keep it together and finish her task. She's not sure why, but she's a bit riled now, by the casual way he told her about this, by how he's just slouching there like this is all some kind of… fun adventure for him.

Hearing his breath hitch, she looks up to see the muscles in his jaw twitch, and only then does she notice how tightly she is winding the bandage around his leg, how hard she is gripping his leg right under the knee to keep it in place, and a flush of embarrassment washes over her.

"I'm sorry," she says, sheepishly loosening her grip and the bandage strip before she rewraps the leg more carefully, acutely aware of how he is clutching his knee now, right above the reddish marks of the gashes the Rh'a left. He's still breathing in a staccato rhythm, making her feel awful. "I'm really sorry," she repeats, biting her lip when he doesn't reply.

Suddenly, she wishes his obnoxious questions and comments back, wishes to hear his accent again. Because his silence is that much worse.

"Alright," she eventually mutters, deciding to fill the too quiet place with her own voice, just as she finishes up and moves to very gently place his leg back on the couch. But he shoots her a grin that doesn't even pretend to reach his eyes and, pushing her hands away, he does it himself, both hands holding his knee so he won't have to move his leg too much when he repositions himself.

Watching him, she swallows, feeling more awkward by the second. How does he have this power over her? How is it that he - the awful self-centered vampire - makes her - self-forgetting and always caring for others - feel like an awful person? When she should be the one upset because he won't stop bringing up the collar, and didn't incinerate the place where they are made when he had the chance.

He's… doing things to her that she doesn't understand at all, and it flusters her. To put it lightly…

"Fine," she abruptly says, standing up to walk over to her comfy little bedstead, ready to eat something now, also ready to pretend this little awkward moment didn't happen, "so what do you want to do? Hook the collar up to an electrical outlet?"

Sitting down heavily, she needs a moment to catch her breath. She's still exhausted so incredibly quickly.

"I was thinking of using a defibrillator, but yes, that should work."

He still talks, then. Doesn't even sound too… upset with her. But is he? Upset? She didn't mean to hurt him, he must know that, right?

"A defibrillator?"

He shrugs. "I could get one at the hospital. But it's alright. You seem done trying to pry it off. You've grown awfully cozy with that thing binding your powers, haven't you?"

And she's back to being annoyed with him. If only she _had _meant to hurt him, he totally deserves it.

"You know nothing about me," she informs him, her tone cold and distanced, and she pulls a blanket around her as if to shield herself against him.

"I know enough."

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes. "Oh ya? And what is it that you believe you know about me? You don't even understand what it's like to be collared, because you don't have a collar! And why is that, huh? Are you secretly working for them? For Matt and this guy Tripp and their bunch of asshole friends? Because that's what you do, right? Work for the side that benefits you the most, then turn your back on them? - I'm beginning to understand why Damon left you to burn in that fire, he probably knew-"

It's as if the world stops around them, freezes for a moment, then her hand flies to her mouth and she looks at him, their gazes locking. Can she detect genuine hurt in his or is she just imagining it? He's so very hard to read…

His eyes are shuttered, his whole stance guarded.

"Oh gosh, that was a low blow," she admits, speaking through her hand, afraid that every next word could somehow make it even worse, and she really doesn't want to dig herself in more, doesn't want to twist the knife. "That was… _awful. _It's not even true, I'm sorry. Enzo…" She's apologizing an awful lot, and he's too damn quiet. He's not a quiet guy! Can't he freaking explode and be angry at her? Insult her, call her names, do something? Because if he doesn't she'll just keep talking and then it will only get worse.

She could tell him how upset she was with Damon when he told her about it all, could tell him that she understood Damon had to turn his humanity off to even go through with it but that she had still made it very clear that she would forever be upset knowing he had it in him to abandon a friend like that. Damon could have at the very least mercy killed Enzo back then, but no, Damon chose to let this man that is sitting just a few feet away from Bonnie now burn. He chose to let his best and only friend, his ally die an agonizing and horrible death.

And now Bonnie made it sound like she condones that behavior…

Before she has a chance to try and apologize again or explain herself or do something to make the awkwardness go away, he abruptly gets up, beginning to leave, his gait wonky and strained.

"I'll go and get that defibrillator," he says in a jarring non-sequitur, not looking at her anymore, not waiting for a reply either, and instantly her exasperation with him is back.

"Can we talk about this first?" she asks, her throat hurting from the way she hollered it, and he stops in his tracks without turning around again. "Let me apologize at least…"

"There's no need."

"No need? I just… said the most awful thing I could have possibly said, about one of the most awful times in your life - and I'm just guessing here because I know you were tortured for years, too, so…"

"Decades…"

"Decades," she amends, creasing her brow. Is that the hint of a smile discernible in his tone? It can't be, right? "You were tortured for decades. - And I just said…" She can't repeat it, so she doesn't. "Aren't you going to say something about that? Aren't you angry? - Be _angry_ with me, Lorenzo! I deserve it."

Slowly, he does turn around finally, shoulders stiff, his gaze hooded as he stares at her.

"You deserve to be free of this collar," he says, too little emotion behind his words, and she catches herself getting upset with him for that, too. Getting up, she makes her way over to him, ignoring a brief wave of dizziness so she can get there faster.

When she's standing almost right in front of him, feeling his body's warmth radiate, pulling her in like a planet its moon, she freezes, just staring up at him.

"Who are you and what did you do to Enzo St. John?" She raises an eyebrow, hands at her hips as she watches one side of his mouth curl upward ever so slightly.

Jerking his head a bit, he squints down on her. "I should go now before it gets too dark out there."

"Are you kidding me? - You're kidding me, you have to be." This is unbelievable, he is… Poking his chest, she glares at him. "This stupid defibrillator can wait! I've had this collar for so long, it can wait a little longer now - I have a great idea, how about… _until you can actually walk properly again_ and won't suddenly die of the Rh'a venom?! - So, sit your ass down and talk to me! Tell me why it's suddenly so important to you that this collar comes off. Tell me why the hell you aren't at my throat right now throwing one of your psychotic tantrums because for once you'd have all the right to be upset!"

"It doesn't matter anymore, love. He's gone." He's so quiet she can barely hear him, and yet it sucker punches her. "There's no use in getting angry at you for something he did. You said what was on your mind, and you're entitled to your opini-"

"It's not, though! It's not my freaking opinion that what Damon did was right or understandable or anything other than awful. And I'm sorry I made it sound like it was. Enzo…"

"Fine." A flicker goes through his eyes, something dangerous that makes her take an involuntary step back, but then he grabs both her wrists pulling her closer. "I don't want to talk about Damon anymore, or that 'time in my life.' I don't want to be angry at the only company I have left, the only person that showed me kindness after getting out. You may not know this, Bonnie Bennett, but you're now all I got left in this world, and you're all the world got left to turn it back into a better place. - So, no, I'm not going to wait here and wallow in self-pity and be angry at you. I'm going out there and do my part to get that bloody collar off of you and make sure you're okay; and then we'll try and get rid of these bloody beasts and dear Mattie and his gang because they're the reason why Damon is dead and you had to suffer, and we're all still living this nightmare."

He stops as abruptly as he started, and Bonnie can't help but stare at him, her mouth dry now, a shiver creeping up the small of her back as she holds his gaze, if barely. There's a fierceness, a heat in him, and his words are only slowly taking on more meaning.

_You're now all I got left in this world_, he said…

His grip on her wrists is strong and unrelenting, until finally he lets go, raising his chin a bit as he runs a hand over his face.

"Okay," she eventually mutters, her hand moving of its own accord, reaching up, up, until she can graze his chin, cup his cheek. She's not sure why she's doing that, what the hell has gotten into her, but despite her certainty that he'll just swat her away, he merely holds her wrist again, looking down at her once more.

_You're now all I got left, too_, she thinks but doesn't say, a small and sad smile appearing on her face.

"Then let me come with you…"

"Bonnie, it's too dangerous- "

Before he has a chance to say more, or she a chance to really understand what's happening, something in her makes a decision for her and she raises herself up on her tiptoes and… kisses him.

Heat creeping into her cheeks, she pushes herself off him, wiping her mouth when she realizes what she's doing, but then he pulls her in again, his face too close to hers now, her heart beating too loud, and then he kisses her back, his lips so soft, her need so urgent, his hand in her hair feeling like an anchor tethering her safely while a whirlwind roars around her, and then she can't think anymore which is probably for the better, because she can't let go now. Not anymore. Not ever again.

He's all she got left, and she wants him.


	10. Sudden death

…

He feels too hot, welcoming the soft mix of drizzle and snow coming down on him as he shoves his hands deep into his pockets.

His face is burning with the memory of her lips on his, her breath caressing his cheek, his throat... and he has to clench his teeth to not get washed away by the thought of her so close to him. His body was so willing to respond to her touch, and the cool air out here is just what he needs to sober up and keep his focus elsewhere.

Not on Bonnie Bennett.

Who just kissed him…

She kissed him. And he… kissed her right back. Shaking his head, he struts on, sniffing. The air smells of nothing but cold and snow out here, and it's a welcome change from the scent of her.

Closing his eyes briefly, he curses himself, then tries again with the focusing - which is so bloody difficult.

It's close to dusk, no trace of anything alive out here, but he can't count on it staying that way. The hospital isn't too far, but on foot it will take him a while, especially with the way he is limping, which means there'll be plenty of time for Rh'a or humans to cross his path.

He could take a shortcut through the middle of the forest, that way he wouldn't have to leave Bonnie alone for too long. But he's not going to do that. Too dangerous. Besides, it's probably good for both of them to keep their distance.

The way they pulled apart, both of them quiet and flustered and… unsure of how to proceed, it makes him scoff now. Part of him had been more than ready to continue to the next level - part of him is still ready now, but that would not be smart. Bonnie Bennett… is a witch, who hates him, who is way too good for him anyways, and he…

He doesn't have time for falling in love. What the hell was he thinking? Swallowing, he lifts a hand, running it over his face. He needs to _focus_ \- and _not on her._ Not on what just happened. He has to steal a defibrillator and bring it back to her. That shouldn't be too difficult, but in this world everything is.

Why does he even want to free her of the collar? Why has he begun to care about her so much? He doesn't even bloody like her!

It's just… She is a familiar face, and she was kind to him when he didn't deserve it. He's not a good person like her, yet she is concerned about his well-being. No one has ever been concerned about that, about him, no one has ever done as much for him as she has. And he's not that hardened that he can't appreciate that.

It still doesn't explain the kiss. They're not exactly the last people on earth. There are still options, even in this hellhole.

But he doesn't care about the options. All he cares about is Bonnie Bennett.

A sudden noise makes him tense, sets him on edge immediately. Stopping in his tracks, he scans his surroundings, wary and finally able to think about something other than Bonnie. Because someone else is out here, on his heels, and in his current state he's not very fast…

His jaw clicks as he bites down hard, contemplating his next move. It sounds like it's just one - a human. He can take on a human… Cold creeps up his spine anyways, because chances are that whoever is out here with him has people coming for them, or, worse, could sic the Rh'a on him, and his bloody leg is giving him grief.

A single bird abruptly startles up just to his left, seeking shelter in a nearby tree, and Enzo can hear the soft fall of footsteps approaching behind him, still a ways away, still out of sight, but the person is following in his tracks for sure. And unless he wants to try and hide up a tree, too, he will have to face them soon.

With a sigh, he decides to keep walking, constantly looking behind him with every other step. Soon he won't be alone anymore, but he's not going to go down without a fight. He's going to get Bonnie Bennett that defibrillator and he's going to free her of that bloody collar, and then she can help him take these assholes down.

And if it means he has to kill whoever is coming for him, then…

Too close, by the side of the road where the forest is looming, bare branches are rustling, making him whirl around, ready to charge, but… What the hell?

"Bonnie!"

She has the audacity to grin at him with an air of triumph.

"Found you," she says, like they are playing tag, and he rolls her eyes and scoffs before stalking over to her to grab her arm.

"What the hell are you doing out here?! I told you to stay inside."

She raises her head, chin jutting out in defiance as she glares up at him, the grin wiped off her face.

"Hate to break it to you, but you don't get to give me orders," she informs him, and the way she says it, so feisty, makes him smirk involuntarily.

Before he can reply a loud sneeze from her startles up a few more birds and he rolls his eyes.

"At least be a little more stealthy," he hisses at her, almost feeling sorry when he sees her tense up and cross her arms, her glare only intensifying before she looks away. Sighing, he watches her stifle a cough rather unsuccessfully, waiting until she's done. Softer, he adds, "You're sick, love. That's the only reason why I didn't want you out here…"

The look she shoots him now is different. The anger and defiance are gone, replaced by weariness and dawning understanding.

"I'm an idiot," she says, throwing her head back to stare up at the gray sky. Wiping both hands over her face, she sighs loudly. Something is going on in her, a thought process he can't follow, but when she doesn't continue moving, just stands there, shoulders slumped and stance defeated, he moves without thinking and puts an arm around her.

"Since you're here," he says, "we might as well go together. Just try to not cough so loudly." What he doesn't tell her is that he's worried she'll draw attention to herself if he were to persuade her to go back to the boarding house by herself now. At least this way - when she's by his side - he can try to protect her...

* * *

…

Bonnie feels a bit peeved. Huddling into her coat, she follows Enzo, doing her best to keep up with his suddenly rather fast gait, shaking her head at the entire situation.

There's a tension between them, an awkwardness that she doesn't know how to deal with and since he refuses to talk to her so as not to draw attention to them, she is left to stew in her own confused feelings.

She kissed this man - this _vampire_. She kissed Enzo! And now she has to pretend this isn't weird.

But it is! It is so very weird. She doesn't even like him, she just… needed comfort. Yes, that's it. She needed comfort, needed to feel someone else's arms around her. Because life hasn't exactly been very kind to her lately and all her friends have left her, one of them dead, one of them on the opposing side, and the rest of them strewn in the wind, and she has been alone for too long.

A sudden surge of heat creeps into her face when she remembers just how willing she would have been to go further with Enzo St. John. If he had so much as tugged at her arm to pull her toward that pile of blankets, she would have followed him without a second thought, would have…

No no no no no. She is not going to allow herself to think of him and her naked together, doing… _that_.

But she wonders what it would have felt like… his skin against hers, his…

No. Pushing her hands into the pockets of her coat, raising her chin, she picks up speed, forcing herself to focus on the road ahead that is slowly but surely being swallowed by the lacking light of dusk. At least she can now see the very first signs of city lights approaching, so it shouldn't be too long until they reach their destination.

.

By the time they finally do, it's completely dark, and Enzo is limping worse than ever before. Gnawing on her lip, she looks at him, her brow furrowed in thought. She should tell him to wait outside, because he'll only slow her down now, but of course that's never going to happen.

So she makes a face and keeps on following him, entering the hospital through the back entrance. Before she knows it, before she can ask him how he's going to do this, he nonchalantly puts his arm around her, tucking her close to him as if this is the most natural thing, and while she is still shooting him a bemused glance, he is already walking in like he owns the place, all trace of his limp gone as if it was never there to begin with. But the abrupt increase of tension in his body clues her in to the fact that not all is suddenly well. He simply has a stunning amount of willpower.

Like before… when he should have swept her up and undressed her and... done things to her.

Sighing, she bites her lip as she trudges on, trying hard to keep her thoughts from straying back there. Now is not the time… Besides, what if she imagined it all? Maybe he's already regretting it? She sure is. She should have never…

"Bonnie. What are you doing here…"

She freezes, feeling Enzo's tension rise even more if that is possible before he abruptly lets go of her, leaving her feeling more exposed. Colder. And she finds herself facing an all too familiar person.

"Matt," she breathes, exhaling slowly on the name, subconsciously stepping back a bit. He's not her friend anymore, not really, she knows it. Yet it's still the same friendly face.

They haven't seen each other since the day she got collared by his people, and it was probably for the best because now she feels a surge of anger rush through her, making her tense all fingers as if she can still channel her magic and send it out. The band around her neck crackles ominously, electricity building up, ready to shock her like it always does when she tries to use magic, but then she suddenly feels a hand slip over hers, fingers entwining with hers, curling around her hand, and slowly but surely, the tension leaves her as she looks to the side, where Enzo is standing right next to her now, shaking his head ever so slightly.

"You okay, love?"

"What are you doing here, Bonnie?" Matt repeats before she has a chance to reply. "And why are you with him?" He's hardened a lot more in the last few months, his features, everything looks harsher, more tired, too. But Bonnie has no sympathy for him, not anymore.

"None of your business, Donovan." Enzo's voice is a disinterested drawl, almost fooling Bonnie - if she couldn't feel the barely contained tension in him.

Matt raises an eyebrow as Enzo suddenly pulls Bonnie with him, toward Matt, and for some reason she doesn't even mind when the vampire faces off with her former friend, Enzo tilting his head a little as he takes Matt in.

"If I were you, I'd get out of the way now."

Scoffing, Matt grins, if a little hesitantly. "I don't think so. I doubt you two are here to visit anyone- "

"Which would be none of your business."

Matt clicks his tongue, looking at Bonnie now rather than at Enzo. He gives a sigh, putting a hand on the hilt of the pistol she can see protruding from his belt. He must have noticed that Enzo isn't collared or he would have just gone for the little device controlling them.

"I'm with the police, so it's my duty to make sure things are running in order. And you should know that all supernaturals have to adhere to the curfew we put in place. And you two," he checks his watch overly obviously, "only have twenty more minutes to get back to wherever you came from."

"Did you know that your people tried to sic the Rh'a on me?"

A flicker of surprise crosses Matt's features but he holds Bonnie's gaze, scrutinizing her warily. As if of its own accord, her hand turns in Enzo's, clutching it fiercely as she holds her former friend's gaze.

"Yeah," she continues, "and it's only thanks to Enzo that I'm still here, alive."

It's the first time she acknowledges it openly, and the squeeze she gives Enzo's hand hopefully underscores her gratitude. When he reciprocates the small gesture, she can't help but feel a little better, she isn't even sure why.

Matt watches her, opening his mouth, then lowers his head a bit, pinching the root of his nose as if he's fighting off a headache.

"I'm sorry, Bonnie. I swear I had nothing to do with that."

She rolls her eyes. It's hard to believe anyone these days, especially someone like him.

"Are you also sorry that Damon is dead because of you?"

"That's on Damon alone!" Matt's tone and stance have changed so abruptly that Bonnie tenses as she glares at him. But she doesn't have to confront him, doesn't have to say anything, because it's Enzo beside her who suddenly lets go of her hand and blurs forward so quickly that she has to blink.

The hand that just held hers is around Matt's throat now, choking him, and all Bonnie does is… watch as Matt's eyes dart between her and Enzo.

"Bonnie, tell him to stop."

As if she could tell Enzo to do anything. As if she had any power over him.

She doesn't.

"It's on _you_," Enzo hisses, sizing up the human in front of him like a predator, and when Matt fumbles for his weapon, it's all too easy for the vampire to swipe it out of his grasp. With a clutter, the pistol falls to the ground and instinctively Bonnie grabs it, the metal feeling strangely warm in her cool hand. "You rounded them up like livestock, Donovan. Your _friends_."

"Then that should tell you something about what I'll do to a freaking supernatural monster who isn't my friend!" Matt spits back, sputtering a bit when Enzo lets go without a warning.

"I should kill you for Damon alone, but since I know the lady has a soft spot for you still, despite everything you did, I'll give you one last chance to make this right."

"Enzo…" Bonnie places a hand on his shoulder, wary now. She doesn't know him well, but what she does know is that he's dangerous, and unstable. Or at least he used to be. Matt is in serious danger, but so are they. He's probably not alone, his cop friends somewhere around here, and they could be on them in minutes.

Damon's best and most complicated friend doesn't move a muscle, his shoulder hard under her grip. She doesn't want him to kill Matt, she really doesn't.

"You can't kill him."

"Oh, I can. And I will. Unless he takes off that collar around your neck."

Matt scoffs, rubbing his own neck gingerly as he meets Enzo's unrelenting stare.

"You know I can't do that."

"Why?"

Enzo's question is short, but to the point, and Bonnie is curious whether Matt Donovan has an answer. Part of her is almost a bit moved that Lorenzo St. John of all people is suddenly standing up for her.

"I don't need this," Matt says, shaking his head. "You two are gonna have to come with me."

"So you can put us in one of your cozy little cells? No, thank you. And I'm still waiting for your reply and your decision. Are you going to open the collar? Or not?"

"I can't! Okay? It's… complicated. I don't have the code. And I don't want to, anyways. You are all… dangerous. I need to protect my people from you!"

"She _is _one of your people. She's human just like you." Enzo pokes him hard, making Matt take a step back, his glare darkening even more. But that's not what Bonnie focuses on or cares about. No. Looking up out of wide eyes, she takes in the man right by her side, this familiar stranger, the vampire she kissed what feels like ages ago but has not even been a couple hours. He kissed her _back_, then pulled away all too quickly. Now she looks at him and sees… someone who's on her side. In this awful world, Bonnie Bennett suddenly has an ally again - the one she least expected to ever become one...

"She's a witch!"

Matt's raised voice brings her back into the hospital hallway. While she is half frozen, not sure what to feel or think, Enzo smirks at the other man.

"You're afraid of her."

"She's… the _reason_ we're all in this mess!"

"You got it all wrong, mate. Surely you know that. Come on, what has Bonnie Bennett ever done to you and your 'people' that was not selfless and self-sacrificing? - And this is how you repay her?" Abruptly, he pulls her closer, holding her chin in a too tight grip, baring her neck to Matt as she swats at his hands angrily.

"Let go," she hisses, remembering why they're even here in the first place. "Let's just… get that defibrillator and leave. It's getting dark. Enzo…"

Begging doesn't suit her, so she stops herself right there. If these idiots have to continue their spiel, she'll just go alone. Trying to push herself off of Enzo's chest, she glares at them both, but the stupid vampire has a death grip on her and a mission to fullfill and she's all out of magic. Frustrated, she keeps bumping his chest until he briefly looks at her, a slightly miffed expression pulling the bow of his lips down a bit.

"You're not helping, love."

"Good, I wasn't trying to. We need to go." Her tone brokers no argument and yet here he is, arguing.

"We're not done here."

"Enzo." With a stern look, like she's talking to a small child rather than a grown man, she grabs his arm to make him hold her gaze and focus back on what really matters, and it's not Matt Donovan. "Let it go. We-"

"Listen to her, _Enzo_. Go before I collar you, too."

.

Just a split second. That's how long it takes for Enzo to move forward and snap Matt's neck. A split second. It happens so fast and yet Bonnie sees it as if in slow motion.

The way Matt's eyes widen, clearly not believing what is happening. And he's not alone in that either. Bonnie gasps in shock, watching it all unfold. Enzo blurring before her eyes, his hands coming up around the other man's neck, and then… the sharp sound the spine makes upon breaking. It's sending a jolt through her entire body, making her tremble.

"No."

And just like that, Matt Donovan is dead, her childhood friend, first boyfriend of her very best friend growing up… He's dead. He's barely slumped to the ground when Enzo grabs Bonnie, hard, whirling her around until she can feel herself being pressed against his too close chest.

"We need to go," he says and she can't help but glare at him in disbelief. Now he agrees? _Now_? And what did all this even accomplish?

Nothing.

Another one of her friends is dead. - But he wasn't a friend anymore, was he? She's just not ready yet to see it, to accept it. Matt is dead and Enzo killed him.

"Bonnie!"

"You killed Matt," she murmurs, accusing him, her voice growing louder when she repeats it, "You killed Matt. What the hell is wrong with you?! Just when I started to think-"

"What?! What did you start to think?! You told me yourself what he did. He locked you all up. He put this bloody collar around your neck - then left you with his insane buddy, and now Damon is dead because of it."

"I know that."

"Do you? Because why then would you get mad at me for killing him? He had it coming."

Hiding her face in her hands for a moment, Bonnie pulls away. She can't look at him right now, can't look at Matt either - his dead body a shadow on the ground, and she realizes that they're lucky no one has detected them yet. Soon they'll find Matt, and then…

Sobering, she forces herself to keep it together, to look Enzo right in the eyes.

"We'll talk about this," she grits out, "later. But right now, we need to get the hell out of here. Let's grab that stupid defibrillator and then go!"

With that, she leaves him standing there, out of the corner of her eye still seeing him stand around for a moment longer while she's already rushing down the hallway in search of the one thing they had come for. She'll be damned if they don't make it out of this place with it now.


	11. Lost or found

_Hi my eclectic little group of Bonenzo shippers._

_Are you liking this at all?_

_I'll be gone for a few days so the next update might take me a little longer. Hoping this will tide you over until then…_

_This one is for Jade especially!_

* * *

…

This is getting ridiculous, the way she keeps glaring at him sideways, only looking away whenever another cough attack shakes her frame or she has to focus on a bend in the road.

They're on their way back, the defibrillator stowed away in a bag she's carrying across her shoulder, constantly adjusting the strap, but whenever he offers to take it off of her, she pulls away with a harsh, "I got it."

Fine, if she wants to play it like that, if she seriously wants to be upset and give him the cold shoulder treatment because he put Matt bloody Donovan out of his misery, she can be his guest. He doesn't care. It was the right thing to do and she'll soon see it that way too. And if not, he still won't care.

Then why is he so annoyed by it, by her?

This is growing old real fast and he should be used to it because the cold shoulder is all he usually gets from her, from everyone.

Except earlier today…

Sighing in frustration, he closes his eyes briefly, deliberately speeding up so he won't have to walk alongside Bonnie Bennett anymore.

The screaming pain in his foot and leg almost takes his breath away, but he's determined to ignore it. Hell, maybe it's good that it's there to keep his thoughts from going astray.

"You're not gonna pass out on me, are you?"

Rolling his eyes, he clenches his jaw in annoyance when she appears right beside him again, and he's not sure whether she just ran to catch up with him or whether he's really that slow.

Trying to come up with a reply to her stupid question rather than ignoring her like he wants to, he turns to face her, neither of them stopping.

"Your concern for me is too kind but I don't need it."

"It's a good thing that I'm not concerned, then. Go ahead, keep this up. Maybe you'll make yourself vomit or lose consciousness, and I'll happily leave you here to die in the cold. At least then I'd have some peace and quiet back."

His lips curl into a smile of their own accord. She is funny when she gets angry. Sassy and… hot. And she has a point. He _is_ not feeling quite himself.

In all the years since he's become a vampire he hasn't felt this awful. It's not just the constant pain nagging at him, it's the nausea whenever he puts weight on the leg, that almost gagging feeling in his throat, that inability to breathe normally. One should think the latter doesn't matter because he doesn't technically need to breathe, just like he doesn't need to eat regular food, but… he can't just stop. Maybe it's because they are all creatures of habit. Maybe it's because deep down he still hasn't accepted what happened to him over a century ago…

"Hey… come on…"

Her soft voice registers with him, and he turns to look at her, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand. Bonnie's arm slips around his waist in an unanticipated movement, tugging at him, and he frowns at her, but doesn't comment. She's so close…

Her gaze still on his, the deep green of her eyes suddenly seems almost burning as her mouth turns up into a small smile. Something has changed from her wishing back her peace and quiet just a moment ago to now. Her features have softened considerably, and her hold on him is gentle if insistent, betraying the harshness of her earlier words.

Smiling, he allows himself to just enjoy her closeness and the fact that she's not tearing him a new one over what he just did to Matt Donovan. It's bound to happen, and soon, he knows that, too, but for right now, there's peace between them and he's not going to ruin it by arguing now. He's just going to keep walking with her.

It feels a little too nice...

* * *

…

Their way back is tiring. Sniffing in the cold air, Bonnie has to rub her nose. She should have brought a damn tissue. Beside her, she can feel more than see Enzo walk and she pants a little under the added strain.

It's almost funny. When they first made it out of the hospital, lucky that no one ran into them, he was so insistent that she give him the bag, let him carry it so she'd have an easier time racing back to the boarding house. And now here they are, still maybe a mile away, and he can barely walk anymore, certainly not without help.

Adjusting his arm around her shoulders, and pushing up the strap of the defibrillator bag, she keeps going, shooting him a sideways glance every so often.

She's still angry at him. It's nagging at her, eating at her insides, and she wants so badly to confront him and yell at him and leave him standing out here while she storms off the last bit until she can hide from him somewhere in the old Salvatore home. But of course she doesn't. She's not an asshole. And he's… not doing so well. The trip to the hospital was too early for his leg, and now he's paying the price. She wants to say, "I told you so," but she doesn't do that, either. Because technically she didn't. All she did was let him go, then she followed after. Because in some corner of her heart she was grateful that he was willing to go out there for her, to do something about the collar when she's all but given up on even trying anymore.

He'll be lucky (and she'll be lucky…), however, if the Rh'a venom doesn't still kill him after all.

Half a mile now...

It's grown awfully quiet between them, and she's so damn exhausted. At first he still kept trying to take his arm off her, telling her he got it, but he hasn't even pretended that for the last stretch of their trek, hasn't made any more quips, nothing. The silence is getting to her, and so is the cold.

At least no one is after them. Yet. She can only hope that the trace doesn't guide whoever finds Matt directly to the boarding house, and that the defensive spells around the place are still working…

There. The few steps up to the door. Coughing into the crook of her arm, she waits a moment, steeling herself, then she looks at Enzo.

"You think you can make it up there? Coz I can't carry you…"

That finally gets her a small reaction from him, a smile, a soft chuckle, a raised eyebrow.

"What kind of knight in shining armor are you, Bonnie Bennett?"

"The only one willing to help you."

"Ouch."

She grins despite herself, tightening her grip on him. It feels strangely comforting to wrap her arms around someone else's waist, even if that someone is Enzo.

"Come on. Let's get you off your feet. I need a break from this. You're heavy."

"It's all the good food I'm getting…"

Scoffing, she rolls her eyes, shaking her head at his weak attempt at joking. "You're hilarious."

"And you're beautiful."

What? Flustered, she begins gnawing on her lip, deciding to ignore what he just said because she has no idea what it means or why he said it. She's beautiful? At which point in their short exchange did he get the idea that that was an appropriate thing to say to her?

He's probably growing feverish again. Yeah, that must be it.

Doing her best not to look at him as she holds onto his arm that is dangling off her shoulder, she tugs at him, taking a careful first step up - and he follows, making her exhale with strange relief.

"Two more," she cajoles, a sideways glance showing her that he briefly smiles at that before his jaw muscles dance their dance of tension again. The world seems to be slowing down considerably as she climbs up, his weight growing too heavy as he tries to follow her, and she has to adjust her grip on him, has to fight to not stumble.

"Easy. Almost there…" Is she cheering herself on or him? She can't say. The door is so close, and yet suddenly it's so hard to reach it.

"I'm sorry…" He shakes her off way too easily. "You go ahead, I'll be right there."

"Enzo…"

"I got it, I promise, love. Just…" He stares at her with his too intense eyes, and she doesn't know what she sees in there. "Give me a moment."

"I'm not gonna leave you here." She shoots him a pointed look, squaring her aching shoulders and raising herself to her full height before another stupid cough makes her bend over. When she comes back up, she presses her lips together, annoyed with the cold, with herself, and most of all with him.

"Two more stairs. Surely you can make that. You've walked here for miles. Now let's get out of this goshdarn cold and then I can take a look at that leg and foot of yours and-"

"And I'll be right there. Just…"

"Just what?! Don't be so stubborn now, Enzo St. John. I'm here to help you now. _Now_, okay? I'm right here."

"You're exhausted."

"What if I am? It's literally just two stairs! So let's get this over with." She is growing more and more exasperated. That man… has the talent to annoy her even when he is trying to be noble or whatever the hell it is that he is doing here. "You can plop down on the ground as soon as you're over the threshold if you want," she tells him now, "but we need to get into the house."

"I can't… put weight on it anymore…" He looks too defeated and she catches herself gnawing on her lip in a fast staccato as she tries to understand what he's trying to say.

"So don't. We'll…" Think, sluggish brain… "Hold on to me, and use me as a crutch to just hop up, can you do that?" He looks down on his feet, running a hand over his eyes before he meets her gaze again. "I swear you won't crush me," she says, trying to smile, and when that makes him roll his eyes her smile grows a little more sincere.

In lieu of an answer, he finally puts his hand on her shoulder, and she grabs his wrist, holding it there. She hears him inhale deeply before he finally hops up the first stair, then the next, and the harsh push on her shoulder each time makes her gasp in air, but then it's over, they're finally both inside and she quickly closes the door as he hops out of the way.

She pushes against the wooden frame, sighing as she leans her head against it.

"Home, sweet home," she mumbles, allowing herself to breathe for a minute. When she turns back around, he's sitting leaning against the wall, staring up at her.

"Thanks, love," he mutters, looking as weary as she feels, and she nods, then walks over to him, letting herself slide down the wall until she comes to sit right next to him. Without thinking, she rests her head against his shoulder, laying a hand on his thigh.

"We'll have to check on your leg," she informs him, feeling his gaze on her, and when she looks up, he's nodding, making a face. "And then we'll have to talk about what just happened. With Matt," she amends as if there is any doubt about what she could have meant. His expression turns wry.

"He was not your friend anymore, Bonnie."

"I know that. Doesn't mean-"

"Do you?" he interrupts her, and the sudden build up of tension in his body makes her pull back a little to look at him."

"Do I what? Know that he's not my friend anymore? Yes, thank you. I was there, okay? _I _was there when he caught us and collared us and when he left Tripp to deal with us and then, when the Rh'a went after Damon and-"

"Stop."

"Oh, now you want me to stop? You don't want to hear the story again?' She's being awful, she knows it, but she can't help it. The sudden urge to hurt him, to see pain in his too damn dark eyes is too strong. And why?

"Tore him up. You think _your_ leg hurts? You should have seen the agony in Damon's face. It was awful. Awful!"

Bonnie keeps going on, not even quite registering what she's saying, her gaze on Enzo through it all. She feels all the things, and none of them are good. Because Damon is dead and now Matt is dead and maybe Enzo is right and he deserved it, but she still remembers Matt Donovan as the sweet child he once was, and she simply can't handle losing another person she cares about.

When she's finally done talking, when she got it all out of her system, she looks over at him again, the last person in this town she still knows, and watches as he swallows. His head resting against the wall behind him, he doesn't look at her anymore, thoughts of his own making his jaw muscles click, and it's what catches her attention, keeps her staring.

"Killing someone is not an answer," she eventually mutters so quietly that she's not even sure he hears her, but then he slowly rolls his neck until he faces her, looking… lost and hurt and, yes, in pain, and suddenly she can't bear to see him like that, suddenly she has the urge to cup his cheeks and pull him closer and hold him, just hold him.

"Maybe not," he allows, his reply startling her, and the sad half smile he gives her makes her insides squeeze too tightly. Tears begin welling in her eyes as she reaches out to trace his jawline with a finger.

"Then why did you do it? We could have locked him up, or… I don't know, taken him prisoner to blackmail his friends into helping us with the collar or… or talk sense into him. Maybe he would have listened. He's not a bad person, Enzo, Matt is - was - not bad- "

"But I am."

His words hit her like a punch to the gut, momentarily robbing her of her ability to breathe. Swallowing hard, she stares at him, her heart almost breaking when she sees tears in his eyes, too.

"Enzo…" Suddenly, she doesn't know what to say anymore. She doesn't know what to say when she just spewed out such a rant, and now… all she has left is silence…

"He hurt you, Bonnie. He's responsible for what happened to Damon. And I'm sorry but I don't regret killing him. I don't. - But…" He clenches his teeth briefly, her fingers feeling the muscles move. "It doesn't change anything, does it? Damon is still dead and you are still collared… and… I'm still angry."

"So am I…"

"I should leave you alone. I have no place here anyway." Absently, the fingers of his left hand tap his injured leg, his silver rings, his daylight ring catching what little light there is, and Bonnie stares at it for a moment, trying to process what is going on.

"You can't even walk right now." She shoots him a pointed glance, wiping at the trail of tears that have made their way down her cheeks, and her heart skips a beat when a small chuckle escapes him.

"That is certainly a problem," he mutters, not quite meeting her gaze. For a moment, they're both silent again, Bonnie feeling her own heart beat too loudly as she takes him in.

"You're not bad, you know?" she abruptly blurts, making him tilt his head in her direction.

"Remember when I almost killed your boyfriend? And now Matt..."

She makes a face. "Well, you do have a… bad streak? Happens to the best vampires."

His chuckle brightens her mood a little too easily but she doesn't care.

"You're something else, Bonnie Bennett."

"I take that as a compliment."

"It absolutely is…"

She wants to wallow in light banter, wants to let herself drift… She wants the darkness gone again, but…

"Anyways," she forces herself to say. "I don't want you to go, not even when you can walk again."

"We can talk about that later. You might change your mind. Right now I'd just…"

"Love it if I could take a look at that leg?"

"Almost what I wanted to say…"

He smiles at her as she smiles right back. Then, following a sudden impulse, she leans forward and kisses his forehead.

"Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back," she says, "I'll just grab a few things."

"I'll be right here waiting for you, Bonnie Bennett. Nothing I'd rather do."

She knows it's just empty words born out of necessity, but the way he says he'll be waiting for her… it's the sweetest thing. And how can she feel like that about the man that just killed her childhood friend?

Is something wrong with her?

Maybe it is, but right now, she really doesn't care. What she cares about is... Enzo.

Her hand is still resting on his cheek, her face just a little away from his. She can still feel his heat against her lips.

"I'll be right back," she repeats stupidly, still not moving, his eyes keeping her anchored, and when his hand comes up to cradle her neck, to pull her closer, she doesn't stop him but leans in, her lips grazing his. It's the softest touch...

And it's at that moment that she knows she's lost. Or maybe, just maybe, she's found.


	12. Nothing matters

_This is probably partly on the verge of an M-rating, and hopefully not too cringey..._

* * *

…

He doesn't know what he's doing, or why he's doing it.

Scratch that, of course he knows. Bonnie Bennett turns him on in ways unimaginable and not even the screaming searing pain in his leg can keep him from giving in to the urge to kiss her, to let his hands roam over her body, exploring.

To his surprise, he soon feels her touch on him, too, a soft caress of his lower arm at first, innocent and strangely tender. Then, when his tongue begins dancing with hers, tasting salt, his teeth trapping her lips, she gets bolder, too, shoving a cold hand under his jacket, under his shirt, tearing at his clothes, and he feels himself drift off, letting passion wash him away…

He pulls her even closer, on top of him, playing with the buttons of her coat until she can shrug the garment off like a shroud, and still it's not enough. He needs to feel her, to see her, that beautiful skin of hers, those intense green eyes.

There's a hunger in her stare that makes his heart skip a beat, makes all his blood rush to just one place, and when she touches him there, almost possessively, almost tauntingly, he can't take it anymore, and whirls her around in a split second, until he is on top of her, Bonnie's hot breath grazing his throat, his lips, his cheeks as he looks down on her, ready to devour her whole.

Gosh, she is gorgeous.

He dips down, keeping his weight off her with one arm, a hand going where it's never been before, and the positively horny look she shoots at him when she grabs his arm and pushes him even further between her folds, he is sure he's going to come undone right there and then, but he doesn't care.

Holding his breath, he continues what he's doing, making her moan and bite her lower lip in a way that sends shivers down his spine. She begins to wiggle a bit under his touch, baring her throat to him, digging her heels into the cold floor underneath and he knows he's doing something right, making a smirk appear on his face.

"Come for me, Bonnie Bennett," he drawls against her mouth, staring at her, watching her, his hand writing his name between her legs as if he is marking her as his, and maybe he is. Because how could he not? He wants her. More than anything.

He wants her to be his.

* * *

…

She comes with a gasp and a long keening moan from somewhere deep within her, her legs shaking, and when the afterglow slowly begins to subside, she chuckles a bit in disbelief. Because did this really just happen?

When she looks up at him, she feels a light flush of embarrassment travel to her cheeks, but there's still that feeling deep within her that she has to satisfy first, the need for him to be inside of her, so she pushes the embarrassment away and just focuses on his dark gaze on her - so hot - and she tugs at him, fisting his shirt in one hand while busying herself with the buckle of his belt.

"I need you," she breathes, feeling his hardness under her touch, and she tugs at his unrelenting belt, growing slightly frustrated when she can't seem to figure it out, and he laughs at her briefly, such a beautiful sound, before he begins to do it himself, and she is so ready, she can't stop herself from pulling at his arms, needing his weight on her, needing-

A stifled yell escapes him as she rolls on top of him, landing awkwardly on his foot or leg or both, and pushing herself up a bit, she looks down into his contorted face, pain written all over where just seconds ago lust had been.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!"

Scrambling to get to the side and off of him, she shoots him sheepish glances, noticing the way he clutches at his leg, unable to meet her gaze just yet.

Her hand hovers over his leg as she tries to gauge whether it's a good idea to touch him there, and all too quickly, the here and now has them back, the moment of bliss already fading to the background.

"I'm sorry," she repeats because she doesn't know what else to say and finally he looks at her, a lopsided smirk on his face that takes her by surprise.

"Not exactly how I had envisioned this would end," he says, his voice low and hoarse and too damn sexy for someone in pain whose bones she just wanted to jump moments ago - and still kind of does.

Pulling her hair behind the back of her neck, she makes a face at him, wagging an eyebrow.

"So you envisioned this - _us_?"

She wants to facepalm. Because clearly Bonnie Bennett is an idiot and can't focus on anything other than carnal desires, even now when her first sexual encounter in pretty much forever ended in pain for one party.

But Enzo is still smirking his cocky smirk, even though it's tinged with a barely controlled pain and she can see the strain behind it grow even as he wags his brows at her.

"I won't lie, love. You do things to me that I can no longer ignore…"

"Like, cockblock you by kicking your injured leg?"

He snorts, then nods, letting himself fall back onto the ground completely, an arm now resting over his face as his mouth turns into a pained line. The fact that he doesn't have another comeback tells her everything, and with a last sympathetic look at him and a soft touch to his shoulder, she gets up.

"I'll get the medical kit. Time to look at the damage you did by walking out there."

Peeking out from under his arm briefly, he gives her a wry look.

"If you don a cute little nurse outfit this might still turn into something enticing after all."

Bonnie scoffs, unable to keep from smiling. "Keep dreaming, loverboy," she tells him, shaking her head. But despite her offhanded tone, she is strangely relieved that he's in good spirits still, because at some point during the last few days she has really come to care for this man.

Even if part of her wants to shrug it all off, wants to celebrate the fact that he never got to… enter her body, she knows he's long since entered her mind, her heart, and denying it simply won't work anymore.

Closing her eyes, she waits for her fluttery heart to steady, then she makes her way to where she left the lichen and all the medical supplies nicely lined up on the kitchen counter. Giving herself a moment, she stares out the window, biting the inside of her cheek.

What the hell is she doing here? With him? Did she really just…

Hanging her head, she digs two fingers into the corners of her eyes, trying to stay focused on what really matters now, and that is taking care of Enzo's wounds because what she so conveniently forgot for a while is that he could still die, is still infected by the Rh'a venom. And getting too close to him won't do her any favors. It simply won't. So she better get a grip on herself and work on keeping her distance. Screw her developing feelings. It's early enough, right? She should be able to push them away or at the very least bury them deep inside where everything else that is too painful to deal with is already buried as well.

Placing both hands on the cool counter, she takes a deep breath, forcing herself to get on with things, cataloging her supplies.

She's running out of lichen to make new paste so she'll probably have to go out there again to get some more soon. Maybe in the morning…

Looking out again to shoot the large oaks a glare as if they can be blamed for any of it all, she takes a shocked step back, quickly ducking down and out of sight. Her heart I beating too fast, threatening to tear right through its cage in her chest.

There was movement out there, at the edges of the trees, dark shadows lingering, swaying a little. Maybe it's just the wind in the branches… But a feeling tells her that it's more.

"Bonnie, are you alright?"

She half whirls around in her crouched state, spotting Enzo holding himself up against the wall, in plain view of the window.

"Down!" she hisses, eyes wide with a new panic now, but thankfully he doesn't once doubt her sanity or question why the hell she would tell him that, but simply lets himself slide down onto the ground, his gaze never leaving hers.

"What's going on?" he mouths, tilting his head slightly to frown at her, and she shakes her head.

"I think someone's out there," she eventually makes herself whisper, jerking her chin in the direction of the large yard outside, her hands still clutching the edges of the counter. Should she risk another glance?

Out of the corner of her eye she notices Enzo start moving and quickly waves him off.

"No. You stay down."

"Bonnie…"

"I mean it." Her pointed stare makes him raise his hands away from his body in surrender before he clutches his leg again in a subconscious gesture, reminding her that they still have an issue to take care of in here too, before they can deal with whatever - or whoever - is out there. If there _is_ anyone out there. "Let me…"

Lifting herself up a bit, she peeks over the counter and out the window again, squinting into the dark. Nothing but trees. She scoffs, relief washing over her.

"I think I'm just growing paranoid," she allows, grinning over at Enzo before grabbing the supplies. "But since I got you here- "

A loud bang against the windowpane makes her break off abruptly, and before she even has a chance to duck again, Enzo is somehow there, pulling her down with him until she comes to lie on top of him yet again, staring at him out of wide eyes as another bang, then another, then another shake the window until she is sure it will break.

But it doesn't.

Because of the spell she put around the house months ago, back when she still had access to her magic…

"Not so paranoid, methinks," Enzo drily states, and she presses her lips together briefly.

"Yuh. I think I'd have liked it better if I was…"

"I think I would like it better if you lying on top of me meant-"

Putting her index finger against his lips, she stops him, shaking her head as she scoffs.

"Really? When there's someone out there waiting to kill us or possibly do worse?"

Clicking his tongue, he smirks at her, the expression too disarming even now.

"What can I say? You do things to me, Bonnie Bennett."

"Oh ya? Well then better prepare yourself for what I'm gonna have to do to you now."

"Something tells me I'm not gonna like it."

Part of her wants to say something snippish in reply, but the sympathy wins over and she just sadly smiles at him before the expression fades off her face.

"Come on. Let's get this over with so we can make sure we're still safe in here. And see who is out there."

"I'm all yours."

Swallowing, she actively forces herself to not look at his face before she kneels down to push up his pant leg, making him tense up under her touch. The bandages are bloodsoaked, making her grimace because taking them off won't be particularly easy this way.

But he doesn't move a muscle, doesn't make one sound when she peels it away layer by layer, and when she looks at him, his expression is blank, detached, almost like he isn't completely there, in this moment.

And maybe he isn't.

Remembering his past, she is sure that someone like him probably found ways to survive immense pain, and this moment here, it's simply one among many… The realization sends a cold up the small of her back and to the base of her neck, lodging there.

"Almost done," she makes herself say, not expecting a reaction, and not getting one.

When she's done with part one, the extent of the damage reveals itself completely. Some of the gashes have opened up again, bone visible on the sole of his foot. But despite all that, despite the garish extent of the injuries, there are good news too, her breath hitching as she notices it, her eyes beginning to sting with tears.

"I hope you're not crying tears of joy over my impending death, love."

She chokes down a sob-laugh, looking up to grin at him before wiping at her cheeks. She should probably come up with a cheeky comeback, but… all she got is, "I'm not gonna allow you to die, Enzo St. John." Clearing her throat, she adds, "Seems like my lichen paste is really doing the trick. This looks much better than before, no black streaks from the Rh'a, no dead tissue."

"Technically, I'm nothing but dead tissue…"

Rolling her eyes, she waves him off.

"You're a funny one, Mister."

"I don't think I've been called funny before. I'll take it."

He leans forward a bit, inspecting his own leg, clenching his jaw as he does and she has to fight the sudden urge to push him back and tell him to focus on something else because she doesn't want him to be in pain, doesn't want him to have to see… But he's Enzo, he's seen worse, he's been through worse, and-

"Look at _me_ instead, okay?" she blurts, cupping his face to make him turn his gaze upward, and he smiles a weak smile at her that doesn't last long enough. "I know it doesn't look like it, but it's really improved a lot from last time. And… no necrotic tissue is really good news. You're gonna live, Enzo, you're gonna live…"

She isn't even sure whether she is telling him that or herself, but she can't stop repeating it over and over, until his forehead comes to rest against hers, his arms snaking around her back, holding her close.

And for that moment, the world is on hold around them, and nothing matters, not the threat outside, not the fact that he is injured and she still has a nasty cold, or that they don't have anyone else anymore. It all doesn't matter.

Only they do.

* * *

…

* * *

…

_Just a heads-up: I have to admit after I spent a long weekend in a cabin (anyone been to Yosemite? What a gorgeous place…) a serious lack of writing motivation struck, so not sure where this is headed and how soon updates will come as I'm trying to (hopefully) work my way out of it..._


	13. Surprises

_For Jade! :)_

* * *

…

Eventually, the bangs from outside subside, silence filtering into the room as Bonnie and Enzo pull apart, focusing back on the present, on what needs to be done. Taking a shuddering breath, Enzo steels himself, forcing his mind to go elsewhere one more time while Bonnie Bennett gives him a sympathetic look before she begins finishing her handiwork, tying a fresh bandage around his injuries. Stoically watching, he finds himself drawn to the movements of her slender fingers, the way she holds the fabric of the bandage, wrapping it expertly around his leg, the way she holds his foot, somehow managing to find the one spot where it doesn't feel excruciating.

She's so careful with him, her touch so tender, he's not used to that at all. Someone who doesn't want to hurt him… It's strangely jarring, though certainly in a good way. Yet when it's over, when her hands leave him, he's still relieved.

"Thank you," he mutters, his voice barely working as he tries to stay collected, and the smile playing on her lips in reply makes him swallow drily, his mind drifting back to earlier, when he tasted those lips, touched her, felt her, everywhere…

"Earth to Enzo!"

Shaking his head, he smirks at her, trying to mask his awkwardness.

"I'm sorry, love. What?"

Her raised eyebrows are the only indication that she's a bit annoyed or maybe confused by his lack of reply, then she quickly busies herself by putting the medical supplies back together, all the while shooting him glances. Like she's worried about him…

The thought shouldn't move him the way it does, but he's been falling fast and hard for her ever since he ran into her days ago in the forest, and maybe he's growing soft because of it, because of her, Bonnie Bennett, who is currently squinting at him.

"I said, I'm gonna go out and check whether whoever was out there is still there," she says now, enunciating every word, "and if the coast is clear, I'll get more lichen so we can make sure your injuries continue to heal as well as they have. - Do you want me to help you over to the couch fir- "

"You're not gonna do that," he interrupts her when his sluggish brain finally processes what she just said, and he pushes himself up a bit more, staring at her with sudden heat.

"Excuse me?" Her features have changed into a more guarded, more withdrawn, more angry expression. The woman really doesn't like to be told what to do or not to do. He likes that about her, but right now it's not helpful. She's going to fight him on this, isn't she?

"Bonnie, you can't go out there. It's too dangerous."

"I can take care of myself." She's so proud…

Placing the palm of his hand against the root of his nose, he tries to stave off the beginnings of a headache, realizing that it's been too long since his last dose of blood. Then he abruptly raises his chin, pushing the thought of nourishment as far away as possible to focus on her.

"I don't doubt that, love, but you don't know how many people are out there and you're still wearing that collar. Let us at least try to take it off first."

He can see it work in her, can see annoyance battle with something else.

"Enzo, we really need to stay on top of your treatment…" This time, it's a cough interrupting her, a bad one, too, but he's almost glad about it. Because he can use it.

"I know, and we will. Trust me, I have no inclination to die just yet, but if you go out there now, like _this_." He waves at her offhandedly. "Barking like a dog - you'll attract any living thing out there, and alert it to your whereabouts. Even if these… _people_ already left. They'll come back for you. And me..." His gaze meets hers, and he feels the need to hold her, keep her safe, such an alien, ridiculous feeling that he doesn't know what to do with it. Bonnie Bennett doesn't need him to take care of her, doesn't want him to, either.

But she did want him earlier, his treacherous brain is too happy to remind him and he presses his lips together to keep his thoughts in check.

"Please," he continues, "we've gone to such lengths to get the defibrillator, let's at least try it out."

There's a long pause in which neither of them says anything, then, when he's preparing himself for another argument, she quietly says, "Okay." Nothing more, and he smiles at her, allowing himself to sink back against the wall behind him.

He's more exhausted than he thought, the lack of blood in his diet not helping matters at all, especially since he's lost a decent amount of the precious fluid yet again, thanks to his leg.

"Enzo?"

"Hm?"

When he opens his eyes - and when did he close them? - she's inches away from his face, balancing on her arms and knees, a frown on her face.

"You really are beautiful, love…"

"Are you growing delirious on me?" Her expression softens into a smile that he easily returns.

"I'm just stating the truth."

"Sure you are. Now come on, let's get you over to the couch-"

"Bonnie,we-"

She shushes him, shaking her head.

"And then we can try out the defibrillator. Just… please be careful because I don't wanna die yet either."

"You won't. I won't let it happen."

"Okay!" Her tone is suddenly a little too loud and chipper, but he doesn't comment on it, also doesn't comment on the fact that she's grabbing his arm rather roughly as she tries to help him up, or the fact that he could just walk back using the wall for support instead of her, like he did before. No, he doesn't tell her that, because he wants to feel her close to him, needs her… And part of him still can't believe that she would if she had a chance… So he doesn't give her one.

He's hopeless, isn't he?

* * *

…

Bonnie's fiddling with her collar, watching with growing nervousness as Enzo unpacks the defibrillator and sets it all up. This isn't going to work, is it? It's a stupid idea, and the fact that part of her is actually hopeful is ridiculous. Still, she can't help it.

Her throat feels too tight - and not from the cold she's still battling... Her heart is beating too fast, but she's just so ready for this thing around her neck to come off that she's inclined to put all her trust in Enzo St. John and his idiotic suggestion and let him use the defibrillator on her collar.

"Are you ready, love?"

Scoffing, she shakes her head, allowing herself a few seconds before she replies. Not that he really needed a verbal answer anyways.

"Let's do it."

She hopes she sounds a bit more convinced than she is, but going by the smile he sends her way, that is not the case.

And what a handsome smile he has...

_Stop it,_ she orders herself, balling her hands into fists to keep it together, briefly turning her head to check behind her, as if the threat from outside could still sneak up on them in here after all.

But no one is there except for her and Enzo, sitting on the couch like an old couple enjoying the fire burning not far from them - if it wasn't for the device in Enzo's hands, or the fact that she's wearing a metal ring around her neck while he has to rest his gruesomely injured leg on the coffee table.

When he moves to put the patches in place, she momentarily stops him, grabbing his wrist with her hand, her stare boring into him, her mouth opening of its own accord, but before she gets even one word out, there's that smile again, so open, so genuine. One of his hands comes up to cup her cheek, his thumb tracing her lip, a gesture that doesn't quite fit the moment and yet feels calming, something she really needs right now, and she gives a shuddering sigh as he says, "It'll work."

Her chuckle feels forced - because it is, and she furrows her brow, averting her face slightly, unable to meet his gaze anymore.

"Let's hope you're right. I don't even remember what it feels like to not have this thing around my neck."

She knows he's smiling again and that's exactly why she keeps staring to the side.

"Do it," she says, bracing herself by digging her hands into the sofa cushions she's sitting on.

For a moment, nothing happens, the noises around her increasing tenfold. The light crackle of the logs burning in the fireplace, the creaks and movements from the old house, Enzo's breath, her own… Then, quite abruptly, he flips the switch and a zapping sound makes her grit her teeth and clutch his knee in a sudden involuntary motion, as if part of her hasn't quite processed what's going on, doesn't know yet that the electricity isn't reaching her body.

And then it's over.

Panting as if she just ran, she stares at him, wild eyed and anxious. Her heart is fluttering, her hands shaking. It's too much.

"Easy now." His voice is low and soothing, like honey for her sore throat…

Heaving in breaths, she eyes him warily as he slowly moves his hands up and toward her neck, her own meeting him there, and as he very carefully busies himself with the lock mechanism, she clutches at his hands, feeling them move underneath her.

"Please, please say it worked," she whispers, holding her breath when she hears a very soft clicking noise, her gaze locked on his, learning the truth more through the sudden flicker going through his eyes rather than the sudden weight lifted off and away from her as he takes the collar in his hands to present it to her.

"Told you it would work, love." His cocky smirk in place, he dangles the offending piece until she snatches it away to toss it into the flames with stunningly good aim, surprising not just him but herself when she lurches forward to throw herself into his arms.

_Don't do this, keep a little of your goddamn dignity,_ a small voice inside of her briefly warns her, but she really needs a freaking hug right now so dignity be damned.

The collar is off, it's really gone, and when she's finally sure it's true, touching her throat with ginger movements, she extracts herself from Enzo's arms to look at him.

"How does it feel?"

"Good." Such a small word for how amazing it is to be free again. But she's still so shaky, so unsure of herself. What about her magic?

"Your powers still there, little witch?"

As if he can read her mind… Making a face, she repositions herself, shooting him a self-conscious glance before she focuses on the fireplace, on the gleam of the metal ring inside. There's magic in it, she knows it, she can feel it even now. So what better way to try and rechannel her own magic than by trying to track the witch who dared let her powers be used for such an atrocious device?

"Inveniere potencia reparon malifica," she begins to chant, Enzo and the house fading into the distance as she does, "Inveniere potencia reparon malifica…"

She keeps repeating it, over and over, her body beginning to feel like she's floating, a surge of power going through her, making her hands shake, her nose drip.

"Bonnie."

But it's back, her magic, it's really back, it's here, finally breaking free.

"Bonnie!"

Pushing her hands out as if to shove her powers forward into existence and on their way, she keeps chanting, chanting, until…

"_Bonnie!"_

With a shocked gasp, her vision clears, her distance bound stare refocusing until Enzo comes into view, looking… so worried, so concerned that it confuses her.

"Bloody hell, girl. You scared me."

"I… I'm fine. I'm sorry…" Except, she isn't fine, not at all. What she saw…

Swallowing, she clutches his arms, one of his hands cupping her face as he uses the other to blot the blood under her nose, his jaw so tense that the muscles are ticking a fast paced rhythm.

He needs to feed, doesn't he?

"You're not, love," he says, interrupting her thoughts, "What happened? You look shaken."

"It's…" For a moment she contemplates whether she should keep it to herself, but then she quickly discards the thought and goes for the truth. Because she needs him now, needs someone else to know what she just learned, just saw before her eyes as if it was some weird vision: a foggy image of the witch who enchanted the collars, who helped the non-supernaturals to bind almost every supernatural being and deprive them of their powers…

"It's my mom," she whispers, her voice barely functioning, and Enzo's frown deepens.

"I'm sorry, I don't follow."

"_She_ did this," Bonnie says, her grip on him tightening, "the. . . The collars, she put the spell on them, it was her, my mom. She's responsible for all of this, _everything_."

"Easy, love."

"No. Oh gosh, I don't… I don't know what to do. Enzo, I need to make her undo the spell. She's-"

"She's helped control the Rh'a too," he counters, sounding level and collected and a lot more in control of his feelings than she is. But Abby isn't his mom, of course…

Glaring at him now, she shakes her head.

"I know that. But… she's helped the non-supernaturals gain control over them. It's not like she made them less dangerous. She just turned them into a weapon. Enzo…" Running a hand over her hair, her other still clutching him, and probably way too tightly, she implores him as if he has the answer to everything.

"It's okay…"

"We need to stop her. I need to find her. She has to-"

"Bonnie…"

"She has to see how awful this is. What she is doing to us all. Damon… he'd be alive if she hadn't helped with the collars."

"We don't know that."

"Don't we, though? If she hadn't-"

Bonnie doesn't get to finish her sentence, they don't get to finish their conversation, because right then, there's another loud bang shaking the house, this time coming from the front door. And then… an all too familiar, an impossible voice.

"Open up, Bonnie, we know you are in there. And you are sheltering an uncollared vampire - who tried to kill me. You know what that means…"

Eyes widening, she locks gazes with Enzo, seeing it work behind his shuttered facade.

"Matt?" she whispers, watching Enzo's features turn into a grimace.

"What the bloody hell?"

Then it dawns on Bonnie. Matt Donovan, the defender of all things non-supernatural, the hunter and collarer of the supernatural beings, is still wearing the magical Gilbert ring...


	14. Hostage

…

_This one is for __SoUtHeRnBeLLe706 for leaving feedback, and for deenew and Jade for your continued support. Thanks guys!_

* * *

...

Bonnie is trying to think. Acutely aware of Enzo's gaze on her, she goes over her options.

"_Bonnie_," Matt's voice drones on from outside and she can't help but hope he'll grow hoarse soon. "_You have one chance to come out of this on top. Lift the spell, give us Enzo, and you're free to go back home_."

She's bristling, clenching and unclenching her fists until Enzo puts a hand over hers.

"How strong is that protective spell around the house?" he asks her, and she sighs, running a hand over her eyes.

"Hard to tell." She shrugs. "It's lasted this long, but then the house has never really been attacked before."

"_Bonnie,_" the awful voice from outside pipes up again and she rolls her eyes at it, jumping to her feet.

"Why would I trust you?" she yells back, digging her hands into her hips as she begins pacing, shooting glances at the front door, where someone keeps banging against it.

"_Open up, and we can talk._"

She scoffs. "Absolutely not."

_"Just me. Bonnie…" _She can picture Matt standing close to the door, his ear resting against the thick wood. Maybe his eyes are closed, or he's looking back toward his nasty companions. "_We are friends, aren't we? I don't want this to end the way our last encounter ended. Please."_

Neither does she…

"Can you guarantee then that Enzo will be treated well?" She already knows the answer, of course. Looking at the vampire in question, she sees a brief emotion flit across his face before the collected, almost passive expression is back. "I'll never give you up," she mouths to him, the sudden need to make sure he knows that strong, and she's relieved to see a brief smile cross his features before he lowers his head a bit and she can't quite read him anymore.

"_I can guarantee you that, yes. We don't want to see repeated what happened with Damon. Believe me."_

She's walked all the way over to the entranceway, on her tiptoes, carefully peeking out through the small window in the door, from where she can see… Matt, and behind him: that man, Tripp.

"So you got rid of the guy who is responsible?" she tests him, so close now that she can hear Matt sigh on the other side of the door.

"_I can assure you he's not going to cause any problems."_

"So he's still around."

"_Yes. Tripp is an integral part of our force. He's… a well seasoned hunter and trained to handle the Rh'a."_

"Then I'm not giving Enzo up. He's not safe with you as long as that man is still alive."

"_You know how important it is that we keep the monsters in check, and he is skilled in doing just that. Bonnie, you have to understand-"_

"With 'monsters', are you just referring to the Rh'a or us, too? Because I'm a witch, Matt, in case you forgot? I'm supernatural, too, just like Enzo. Will you want to 'handle' me too?"

_"Don't be like that, Bonnie. Please."_

"Be like what? You collared me, Matt. You collared Damon, Care, Elena, Stefan, who knows who else. You did that, to your supposed 'friends.'"

There's silence behind the door, stretching for so long that she turns back to Enzo, startling a bit when he's already right there, looking a big ghostly as he leans against the wall, and he reaches out to touch his chest, tap him as she shakes her head at him.

"You shouldn't get up…"

"And you shouldn't be talking to Matt Donovan."

She rolls her eyes, suddenly annoyed, whether with him or the situation, she isn't sure. "Since you screwed up killing him, someone has to talk to him."

He looks a bit offended, and she almost smiles.

"I didn't know he was still wearing the ring. I thought he was abstaining from anything magic or supernatural-related these days. Trust me, love, had I known… he wouldn't be here now."

Sighing, she moves over to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Giving him a reproachful look, she nudges him a little, acutely aware of how close he is to her, how warm he feels against her side.

"Let's get you back to the couch," she says, not willing to talk about Matt anymore, not willing to confront her own mixed feelings about the fact that he is not dead after all.

She has barely begun to accept it, to forgive Enzo, and not even openly, just in one small corner of her heart. And now Matt is back and she should be relieved, but she isn't…

No, she grits her teeth, tugging at Enzo's arm around her shoulders, tightening her grip on his waist. She won't go there now.

"_Alright. Listen."_

They both stop in their tracks, exchanging a glance, Enzo looking as annoyed as she feels.

"He's beginning to get on my nerves."

"Yeah, mine too."

"You wanna tell him to shut up, love, or shall I?"

"I don't know. I think I'd rather you not interact with him at all."

"Maybe we both shouldn't…"

"_Can I come in, please? Alone? So we can talk in person? I'm unarmed. Bonnie. I just want to talk…"_

"You wanna explain to me how it is that my mom helped you guys with the collars?"

_"How do you know about that?"_

Bonnie grins at the obvious surprise in Matt's voice, but the look of caution Enzo shoots her makes her sober quickly.

"You shouldn't have told him. Now he'll know something is up. He might even know you got rid of the collar," Enzo hisses, then clenches his teeth as he takes his arm off her, glaring at her. "You're endangering yourself - _us._"

"I'm… not," she counters, " she's my mom. I need to know what happened to her, why she would have done this." Then, without giving him time to argue, she addresses Matt again, at the same time roughly pulling at Enzo, making him continue to walk with her.

She hears him mutter, "You're bossy, Bonnie Bennett," while she's already talking again.

"How I know?" she picks up her conversation with Matt again, "Because I took off the collar, and used my magic to trace the spell that was put on it. - Yes, you heard that right. I'm no longer collared and if you and your friends don't want to get incinerated by a magical firestorm out there, I suggest you all take whatever ram it is you've been using to try and get in here and leave the damn property. And don't bother coming back. I have nothing else to say to you!"

"_What if I can arrange a meeting with your mom?"_

Of course he'd say the one thing that would make her seriously have to think this through…

"Don't," Enzo cautions, clearly already knowing what she's going to say. "It's a trap. - Has to be…"

He's probably right, but…

Carefully letting go of him, she watches as he lets himself heavily flop down on the couch, looking up at her imploringly.

"Bonnie."

Sighing, she raises her gaze to the ceiling above, running both hands over her face. What a screwed up situation. The decision should be easy. Matt and his troops are dangerous, a bunch of liars. She doesn't even know whether her mother is still alive, and besides, Abby isn't exactly mother of the year material, so…

Still. She loves her. This is the woman who brought her into the world. And she owes it to Abby and to herself to give her a chance to explain, if there really is one.

"Okay," she therefore says, her gaze falling on the ticking muscles in Enzo's face again, the way he shakes his head at her. But it's not his decision to make, and it doesn't have to concern him. "Tell your men to leave and I'll open the door."

"_You won't regret it, Bon. I swear. Thank you."_

She's not so sure about that…

* * *

…

What the bloody hell is she thinking? Ruffling his hair in frustration, Enzo looks up at this beautiful yet idiotic girl and can't believe what she's just done. Inviting Matt bloody Donovan into the boarding house, into the one place where they're still safe. Matt - the guy responsible for collaring her and their friends, for killing Damon.

His jaw clenched so tightly that it's giving him a headache, he slouches into the cushions of the couch, staring up at Bonnie as she glares back before turning on her heels and walking toward the front door.

He should probably come up with a plan to just leave this bloody place behind, but he knows he won't make it far. The leg is done, _he_ is done. Besides, he can't leave her alone, not with Matt Donovan, not with any of this.

Technically he could, of course. Nothing is keeping him, no one. He's always been better off alone anyways, the one time he trusted someone ending with him getting literally burned…

But that's not true, either. He's trusted her before, Bonnie Bennett, and because she has a genuinely good soul, she's helped him then and is helping him now, and he really really bloody likes her for it, likes having someone who is actively there for him, who is… kind, and caring, and gorgeous, and…

What the bloody hell is wrong with him? Now is not the time to drift off in random thoughts. Digging his fists into his eyes, he makes a face. He has a headache now, maybe because of his tension, or because he's so annoyed, or maybe because he really needs some blood.

The sound of the front door being opened reaches his ears and he knows Bonnie is really letting Matt into the house. Shaking his head in resignation, he gathers his last remaining strength and speeds over to her, barely in time for him to see the door opening wide to reveal the blond kid standing before it.

Enzo tilts his head slightly, clicking his tongue in appreciation when he notices that the idiot is indeed alone. This will make things easier.

Ignoring Bonnie's startled frown at his appearance right by her side, also ignoring the pain shooting up from his foot and into his leg, he speeds forward again, quickly grabbing Matt by the throat in a split second's time while simultaneously pulling him inside, then kicking the door shut.

"Bonnie," Matt gasps out, looking at her with shock or disappointment, Enzo can't really tell the difference, not that he cares either way. But Bonnie does, unfortunately.

"Enzo! What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hisses at him, grabbing his arm, but he merely grins at her, then pushes Matt into position, baring the man's neck as he allows his fangs to descend.

"You are not gonna…" She trails off as he sinks his teeth into a struggling Matt's neck, the surge of blood coating his tongue, his mouth, and instantly, he feels a little better again.

"Bonnie!" Matt gasps. "Ungh, you have to tell him to. . . stop. Stop."

"Stop it, right now. Enzo. Stop! _Stop_!"

As her tone crescendos, he finally does stop, tossing Matt Donovan away from him unceremoniously, staring hard at Bonnie as the kid between them scrambles to his knees, a shaky hand coming up to cover the wound in his neck.

"Are you insane?!"

Bonnie is angry, truly angry, and it probably doesn't help that he can't stop himself from smirking at her.

"What do you want from me, love? To condone you bringing this bloke in here for a nice and civilized conversation?"

"He's alone. He said he's gonna tell me about my mom! If you end up killing him before I've had a chance-"

"Oh, _I'_m not gonna kill him," Enzo informs her, a strange upset rising to the surface, and his stare hardens as he wipes traces of blood off his lips, acutely aware of Bonnie's gaze following his every move. "_You _are."

She scoffs. "I'm not. And you are crazier than I thought if you think so. Matt is - was - a friend and he deserves to at least be treated with the courtesy of… of… a prisoner of war."

He can't believe her. Throwing his hands up, he takes a step back, trying to not let it show that that was a bad idea, his left leg almost giving out on him. He needs a moment to steady himself, to refocus his thoughts, but thankfully Bonnie is now busy pulling Matt up into a standing position so she doesn't see him struggle.

"You shouldn't have done that," she mutters as if to herself, then addresses their guest, "Can you stand?"

"I… I'm fine, I just… Geez, Bon. I know things between us are not easy, but… you're really with this guy now? Damon's unhinged sidekick?!"

"I'm not _with _him," Bonnie huffs out, just as Enzo cocks his head, taking a deep breath.

"Damon's unhinged sidekick?" he repeats testily, rolling his eyes at the kid's audacity, but the way Bonnie stares daggers at him makes him keep the rest of what he wanted to say to himself and he merely shrugs instead.

"Let's get you-"

"To the basement," Enzo shoots before she has a chance to say anything else, and forcing himself to speed down there before she can argue, he locks Matt up right as Bonnie comes running down the stairs, throwing herself at him with a seething expression.

"You are adorable when you're angry," he tells her, smirking when her glare intensifies.

"Give me the key," she orders, turning to look at the cell briefly, looking even angrier when she returns her gaze to him. "You snapped his neck?"

"Relax, love. You know he has his ring…"

He doesn't see a problem with having shut the nasty kid up for a few minutes, but clearly Bonnie doesn't approve.

Hitting his chest with her fists, she glares at him. "What is wrong with you? I thought we've made progress. I thought you had changed! But you're still the same impulsive mess of a vampire you've always been! You…"

She keeps going on while his smirk begins to fade off his face, her words getting to him more than he'd care to admit, but it's something else that makes it become impossible for him to follow her hate-filled rant completely.

"I trusted you. You better hope he wakes back up and is still willing to tell me about my mom, because if not, you and I, we'll be through!"

Her voice is fading as nausea makes him bend over, and he has to clutch at the wall for support. Blinking, he digs two fingers into the corners of his eyes, shaking his head to clear it. He's not feeling so hot…

"Trust me, he's going to wake up." His stupid leg... Swallowing, he makes himself continue, "And if he doesn't talk of his own accord, I'll make him."

"You will do no such thing! You'll- . . . Enzo?"

This is not good. He's swaying, or maybe the world around him is, though going by the suddenly rather concerned look on Bonnie Bennett's face it's really just him.

"I'm. . ."

Stumbling as he tries to take a step and his leg refuses to follow suit, he distantly notices himself sliding down the wall until he's sitting, just a foot or two away from where their guest-slash-hostage is lying in his cell.

"Enzo. Hey. Hey," Bonnie says, sounding so alarmed that it makes him almost panic, because suddenly he feels like his heart is being ripped out of his chest, his blood on fire, his head about to explode with a migraine from hell, while his leg, that stupid injured leg is throbbing with agony.

"What is going on with you? You're better not just putting on an act so that I'll feel bad for you."

"It's the blood," it dawns on him, his vision blurring, his hands pressing against his temples to try and soothe the pulsing pain residing there, but to no avail. "Something. In. His blood."

That's his punishment for being rash He should have known that the supernatural-hater Donovan would be prepared for a vampire attack.

"Vervaine?"

He's vaguely aware of Bonnie kneeling next to him all of a sudden, her hands on his knees as she looks at him. Then she lifts an arm, tapping his chin…

"Enzo… I thought Augustine made you pretty much immune to most doses of vervaine."

But this is something else…

"Bonnie," he presses out, clipped and full of agony, and the sudden worry and panic in her eyes doesn't exactly help make him feel any better.

"Not vervaine then. Okay. Okay…"

"I can't…" What? Function? Breathe? Listen to her think loudly? Bear the pain anymore.

"Sh… you're okay, I got you, I got you…"

* * *

…

Bonnie's hands are shaking as she looks down on Enzo before her, the shock over his sudden collapse almost immobilizing her.

A long pained noise escapes him, his face a grimace as he hits his forehead with his palm repeatedly before she stops him with a firm grip, her focus abruptly coming back.

He needs her, and she… needs to come through for him, to forget their argument and focus on what really matters. She hasn't lost him to the Rh'a venom yet so she sure as hell isn't going to lose him to whatever the hell this is.

Trying to think, she puts her arms around him, allowing him to rest his head against her as she rocks them both.

"You're going to be okay," she mutters, closing her eyes as she wills herself to come up with a way to end his suffering. If only she knew what is causing this…

Raising her head, she tenses abruptly as a thought occurs to her. The Rh'a venom… What if Matt and his shady companions managed to get Abby to help them create a protection elixir out of it? If Enzo ingested it somehow by drinking from Matt - or maybe just the contact of his lips with Matt's skin… - he might have exacerbated the already existing poisoning.

She could try and get him to just swallow the lichen, but…

No. She has her magic back, she has her magic and she needs to use it if she wants to save him. There's no time.

Carefully she lets go of him, resting him against the wall, where he continues to writhe, gritting his teeth to not yell, and she looks at him with regret over not being able to hold him through this, before she lifts her arms, palms toward him. Then she looks within herself for a spell, for the power to heal him…

It has to work. It has to, it has to, it has to.

"I'm not gonna lose you, Enzo St. John," she mutters, then closes her eyes to channel her magic as she begins to chant a healing spell.

.

It takes minutes, endless minutes, possibly longer, she can't tell and doesn't care anyways. But eventually, Enzo seems to calm, his hands, arms falling to the side, his head dropping forward toward his chest as all tension leaves his body.

She continues chanting until the spell is complete, until she can feel a last surge of magic making its way out of her and then… all grows quiet around her as she falls forward a bit, panting, her nose dripping blood.

Closing her eyes, she allows herself a few seconds to steady her breathing and wipe her nose with the sleeve of her shirt, then she crawls forward, toward Enzo, vaguely aware that Matt is beginning to stir in his cell.

"Enzo?" _Please be okay_, she thinks, or maybe she whispers it, almost forgotten her earlier anger at him, her deep upset and frustration. His cheek feels cool to the touch when she strokes it gently, lifting his chin to look at him. His color isn't too bad, which hopefully is a good sign. "Enzo, come back to me, please. - Come back."

"So you can lecture me more?" he finally murmurs, eyes flickering open, not quite willing to stay focused on her, but he's clearly fighting. His hand comes up to grip her wrist tightly where she is now cupping his face, and relief washes over her at seeing him do better.

"You scared me," she chokes out, wiping at her traitorous eyes before smiling at him. "Don't ever do that again."

"Feed off Donovan? Yeah, I think I've learned my lesson. He's even more toxic than I thought."

She rolls her eyes at his lame attempt at a joke, then leans forward to rest her head against his.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better… - Thank you, for saving my life. Again."

She pulls back a little to look at him with a slight frown. Sometimes, it's hard to read whether he's being sincere or not, but right now, she really thinks he means it. - It's not often that someone has actually thanked her for saving them. Yet he seems to do it every time…

"How's your head? Your leg?" She has to swallow multiple times to get her too dry mouth to work, shooting a brief glance over at Matt as the noises from his cell grow louder. He's moving, his eyes still closed, and she focuses back on Enzo, her hand moving down his leg to the knee, then further.

He intercepts her movement, his gaze on hers, his hand stilling hers as he says, "Head is fine, leg is… better."

It's a bit evasive and she instantly sees through him, knowing that she didn't just miraculously heal all of him completely, but when she gently pries her hand free to tug at the bandage and risk a glimpse, she's excited to see that it does look a lot better, the gashes finally not bleeding anymore, some of them almost closed up now. As relief washes over her, she throws herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. And then she kisses him, first just a small tender kiss, but soon more forceful, with a fierce need she can barely explain to herself.

She hasn't lost him. He's still here, with her, and that matters more than their previous argument, it matters more than-

"What the hell, Bonnie?! Are you… _sleeping_ with him, too?!"

She pulls away to find Matt glare over at her from where he's sitting on the floor of his cell, a look of utter disgust on his features that could have been comical under other circumstances - and when she hears Enzo give a chuckle she sees that apparently to him it absolutely is, even now.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he says, his expression turning cocky and aloof, and while Bonnie feels like she should probably be annoyed with how taunting and self-confident he sounds, she finds it to be somewhat of a turn on.

"You are screwing him? Really? You let yourself get corrupted by this vampire-son-of-a-bitch?! _You_? Bonnie Bennett, who was always just as wary of them as me? As us?" Matt's words pull her back before she can drift off too far into earlier memories, and she glares at him, acutely aware of how Enzo's hand tugs at her, pulls her back a bit when she wants to just stand up and yell at Matt.

"Hate to break it to you, Matt, but _you _and your troop of wannabe anti-supernatural police have a big part in me realizing that it's not just the vampires who are the bad guys here."

"You're not serious."

"_You _hunted us down and collared us, all of us! Care, Elena, me. Keep telling yourself that you're doing it all to protect the world and the non-supernaturals, but you're lying to yourself. _You _are the bad guys now, too, Matt. Your… your friend Tripp killed Damon on purpose, he let those monsters loose, not caring whether anyone would get hurt."

"He wouldn't do that. It was meant as a warning. I'll admit that it went horribly wrong."

She hears Enzo snarl behind her, feels him tense as she pushes back against him a little, and she turns to focus on him instead because clearly, there's no arguing with Matt.

"Let me tear him to pieces," he mutters, his gaze dark on hers and she looks at him with sadness and sympathy before shaking her head. They still need Matt, and she doesn't want to be like him, doesn't want to stoop down to his level, and neither does she want Enzo to.

"We are better than them," she tells him now, and he lowers his head not looking at her when he says, "You are, love. But I am not…"

"Keep telling yourself that. I know you're not as bad as you'd like everyone to believe. You saved me when you didn't have to - and almost got killed in the process. You saved me from the Rh'a, then stayed with me to make sure I'd be alright, you took care of me…" She is smiling now, somewhere behind her hearing Matt still go on about something or other, but she doesn't pay attention. This is not about him anymore, or what he did. It's about Enzo, and her.

"I want to end him… so badly," he admits now, shooting a dagger-stare over at their hostage before she cups his cheek to make him look at her instead.

"Focus on _me_. Come on, I'll get you to the couch so you can rest, and I'll deal with him."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him."

She sighs, smiling, a feeling of genuine fondness coming over her - or maybe something even stronger... She is not used to someone looking out for her anymore, not since Damon…

Swallowing, she closes her eyes, unwilling to think of him now, because then all she sees is his suffering and Tripp's evil grin.

"I'll be fine," she makes herself say, then pulls at Enzo's arm, slowly getting up herself. "Come on."

"Bonnie…"

She raises her eyebrows, holding out her hand, and without having to say another word, Enzo eventually grabs it and lets her help him up.

"Only because I know you can handle yourself. But if he so much as looks at you the wrong way-"

"I'll call you, I promise. Then you can threaten him a bit with your vampire-spiel."

"Alright," he allows, a small smile tugging at his mouth, lighting up his eyes again, and she can't help but smile back, leaning in for a kiss before they finally make their way up.


	15. Where do we go from here

_I'm so sorry, guys. Writer's block - or whatever you want to call it (I tend to go with "lacking motivation") - has struck horribly, and I'm trying to fight my way through it. It's a slow process. Wish me luck…_

_Hoping this chapter isn't too weird and low in quality. I did work hard on it. It might also take a turn for the… darker._

_As always, thanks for reading and special thanks to SoUtHeRnBeLLe706, Jade, and deenew for your awesome motivating feedback. You're the reason I'm trying to keep going till we've reached a decent ending._

* * *

…

"Remember how it was before?"

Bonnie catches Matt's sad gaze, holding it before he lets his head drop, running a hand over the back of his neck. He's sitting not far from her, an arm slung around his bent up legs, his shoulders hanging in a defeated stance. It makes her sigh in sadness, seeing him like that, thinking about his question.

Because of course she remembers…

"You were wary of them once, too, Bon. You _hated_ them." Matt shakes his head, looking up again with an almost accusing expression. "What changed?"

"I don't know, Matt_. I _did. The world. The people around us."

"Damon killed my sister. He almost killed Jeremy - _Enzo_ almost killed Jeremy too, and I thought Jer was your boyfriend, not that vampire."

Gritting her teeth, she tries to fight down a surge of anger, not quite managing it. At least she can keep herself from blurting out an irritated "'That vampire' is not my boyfriend." As if that is the worst thing Matt just said...

"I get it, okay?" she says instead, "I don't blame you for feeling the way you do. You have all the reasons to hate Damon for what he did. But… it's not all bad. _They _are not all bad. Damon was… not good, but he had good in him. And what about Elena, or Caroline? You can't honestly tell me that you think they're suddenly bad just because they were turned into vampires."

Matt shakes his head in a tired gesture, slowly pushing himself up before he faces her, annoyance back in his features. "You're completely ignoring what I said. What about Jeremy?"

The way he says it upsets her, and she finds it hard to keep her tone civil when she replies.

"He's dead. And it was neither Damon nor Enzo who killed him this time, was it?" she snaps with a pointed glare and earns herself a flustered look from Matt.

"I…"

Bonnie clicks her tongue. "Yeah, that's what I thought. You have nothing to say to that, huh? Because he died for you and the company you keep these days. Elena told me everything." She pauses, trying actively not to remember the account she heard of Jeremy Gilbert's demise. It's just another sad story, and there are too many of those swimming around in her head.

"For the record," she eventually allows when Matt remains noticeably quiet, "I don't condone what Damon or Enzo did and how they almost ended up killing Jer. But I have learned to understand them a little better in the meantime."

"_Understand_ them?" Matt scoffs, shaking his head with obvious disbelief. "Really? They're killers, Bonnie. Ruthless, dangerous, soulless killers."

He takes a few steps forward until he can grip the bars of his cell, staring hard at Bonnie, and she feels herself tense, even though she knows he can't get out, can't do anything to her. It's sad how far it has come between them, that she can't see him as just Matt anymore, but a threat…

"Yes, and no," she makes herself say, crossing her arms defensively. "They're deeply flawed, yes. It's their nature to kill. They've done awful things. But they've also suffered a lot, and done _good_. - Damon was my friend, Matt! He was there for me when all seemed lost. And Enzo. . . He saved me from _your_ people, Matt. _He_ _saved_ me!"

"I don't doubt that you think-"

"He and Damon were both tortured for years by who you consider to be the good guys!"

"Of course there's also bad humans out there. I never denied that. But come on, Bon. Why are we even fighting about this? You can't honestly think that what humans do and what the supernaturals do is remotely on the same level."

"Can't I? I've heard that you are torturing supernaturals at your 'facilities'..." She air-quotes, glaring at him as he merely huffs, cocking his head to grin at her without humor.

"Come on, Bonnie. Let's not fight-"

"And what about me?" she interrupts him, scoffing, speaking before he has a chance to reply to her question, because she doesn't want to hear just another excuse. And maybe she does want to fight…

"I'm not normally selfish, but let me be selfish for once and ask you what I did that I deserved to be collared and locked up? And don't give me that crap about being responsible for the collapse of the Other Side. You know that wasn't on me. You know I tried saving everyone from getting hurt in the process."

"You couldn't save Tyler! You couldn't save Jeremy. You couldn't save an awful lot of innocent people that got torn apart by the Rh'a! _You _brought them here!"

"I didn't!"

"Maybe not you personally, but your ancestors, your line of witches, or however that works! You are responsible, Bonnie, even your mom said so, so own up to it and don't pretend you're so innocent!"

They both fall silent, glaring at each other, Bonnie stifling a gasp at his words. Her mother thinks she is responsible for the collapse? For the repercussions? She doesn't know what to think or say to that, and the worst is that maybe Matt and her mom have a point. She can't deny her connection to the whole debacle…

Her mom… Closing her eyes, she focuses back on her, on the one thing she actually wanted to talk about, the reason why Matt is even here.

"Tell me about her," she orders in a cold tone, now a lot more collected, and distant.

Matt scoffs, crossing his hands behind his head as he stares at her.

"Abby?" Sniffing, he begins to pace a little, up and down, up and down, getting on Bonnie's nerves almost immediately.

"Don't stall, Donovan, the lady asked you a question. And if you don't want a taste of my very own interrogation techniques - which I can guarantee you are way less pleasant - you'll answer her. Now."

Both Matt and Bonnie whirl around at the unexpected interruption. But while Matt is glaring over at the shadowy figure that has appeared by the stairs, leaning against the wall with crossed arms and a flickering light in his eyes, Bonnie has to smile involuntarily. Before she can so much as reprimand him for being down here instead of resting on the couch like she told him to, Enzo lowers his head a bit, then smiles at her.

"I'm sorry, love. I was growing rather tired of listening to the endless droning on and on about nothing."

"You better hope you won't have to pay for it later when your leg is giving you grief again." She squints at him, jerking her chin in his general direction, but she can't get that smile out of her face when he merely smirks over at her.

"Oh my gosh," Matt blurts, rubbing his eyes and picking up speed in the small cell, and his obvious discomfort with having to watch Bonnie borderline flirt with Enzo makes her stifle a chuckle. "Alright, you know what? Spare me this and I'll tell you whatever you wa-"

"You know what she wants to hear," Enzo interrupts him, his tone, his entire stance way too calm, setting Bonnie on edge. She knows him well enough now to see that it's all a facade, that he won't remain this civil for much longer if Matt decides to not be forthcoming after all. And the most shocking realization is that she wouldn't mind if Enzo just snapped Matt's neck again.

"Fine." Matt glares at Enzo briefly, then drags his gaze over to Bonnie. "Your mom has been working with us pretty much from the start. The people I'm with… - Let's say they weren't very fond of you after what happened. They wanted to bring you in and…" He licks his lips, not quite looking at her, and she squints at him, suspecting what it is he doesn't want to tell her.

"Kill me?"

Looking up, Matt nods, and Bonnie has to ignore Enzo's loud scoff, his presence at the periphery of her view.

"Yeah… - And in order to do that, we searched for anyone even remotely connected to you, which is how we found your mom. She… uh," he begins stammering a bit, and Bonnie can't help but feel her tension grow yet again.

"Did you threaten her? Is that why she helped you? Huh?"

"It's… - Listen, Bonnie. I need you to know that this was not my idea, okay? But my higher ups, they… they really wanted to make sure you could never do harm again. That this wouldn't happen again so they were going to interrogate you, do whatever it takes to make sure they know what happened and how to prevent it from happening again."

"Oh, how lovely. So rather than just kill her, they were going to torture her, is that what you're trying to say? " Enzo's gaze is on Matt before he studies the rings on his own fingers with disinterest.

"Yeah," Matt admits, not looking at either Bonnie or Enzo, and Bonnie doesn't know what to think. They were going to torture her…

"My mom?" She stops, swallowing, taking a shuddering breath when she feels Enzo's presence suddenly right behind her, a small, a necessary comfort. "Did she…"

"She helped us to save you. Offered up her services so they wouldn't kill you."

"_They_, huh?"

Bonnie is too frozen to fight it much when Enzo gently pulls her behind him, then steps closer toward the cell. With a half-hearted tug at his shirt, she tries to keep him from walking up too closely, but deep down she can feel herself become detached from the entire situation, from Matt… It helps that she doesn't have to see him anymore now that Enzo has stepped right in front of her.

"Don't you mean _you_, and that friend of yours - what's his name?"

"Tripp," Bonnie mutters behind him, her hand still on Enzo's shirt, almost forgotten.

"Right…"

"Listen." Matt is lifting his hands, she can see them pop up behind Enzo's back, and even though she can't see his face she can hear that he is weary. "I know this is messed up, okay? I never wanted any of this. But your mom… she wouldn't have helped us otherwise and we needed someone to help us control the Rh'a, to contain this awful mess."

"That you're blaming Bonnie for."

"Gosh, what is this, huh? Is he your spokesman now, Bon? Can't you talk to me directly anymore? Do you really need him to… to mediate or whatever he thinks he's doing? Come on, please. Bonnie… - We've been friends for way longer than you've even known him. We had a deal, didn't we? To just talk? - Please. If I don't get back out there by dawn, Tripp is going to smoke you out. He's going to assume I'm dead and will burn this place down."

Bonnie is a bit shocked at that sudden disclosure, but Enzo before her merely scoffs.

"Damon would have appreciated the irony, I'm sure," he states drily, finally turning to look at Bonnie, and it takes her feeling his hand cupping her chin to actually meet his gaze, to snap out of the strange stupor that has taken ahold of her.

Her mom has been helping the enemy… to keep Bonnie safe?

"You alright, love?" Enzo's frown is so full of concern that it makes her smile despite herself.

"Yuh."

"I'm not kidding," Matt pipes up, speaking over them, "Hey! It's not that I want it, but I have no say in the matter. You have to let me go, and you'll have to give yourself up if you want to survive this. - Bonnie, please. I don't want to see you get hurt or killed. I don't want to have to die for this either… - You - _we_ \- only got this one chance…"

Enzo is rolling his eyes at her, his jaw taut. He's still holding her chin, a gentle touch, and the fact that he's so focused on her strangely grounds her.

"You think if we ignore him he'll go away?"

Chuckling at that she shakes her head. "No."

"Yeah, I figured." He gives a theatrical sigh, then lowers his head, coming so close to her that his lips graze her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "There's a place, not too far from here - but far enough… I have a little cabin there, nothing fancy but it's off the radar, and it's… safe."

"Enzo, I don't think…"

"We can't stay here anymore, Bonnie. Not after what he just said. They'll hunt you down. If they don't get you today…"

"I know! Okay? I know…"

Staring up at him, she furrows her brow, trying to comprehend what he's saying. That place he's talking about, is that where he's hidden during the last half year? Before they crossed paths?

"Then let's leave dear Matt here and go."

"I need to find my mom first," she argues, watching as he shakes his head, expecting him to grow annoyed with her again, go show his temper, but he surprises her when he nods, then sighs, then abruptly lets go of her to blur over to the cell. Before she has time to say anything else he's already opened the cell, holding Matt by the throat yet again, his nose almost touching that of the other man.

"The lady would like to know about her mother's whereabouts."

"I… don't. I don't know where she is." Matt is clutching at Enzo's arms, trying to pry his hands off of him, but the vampire's grip is unrelenting, even when Matt manages a well-aimed kick to his opponent's injured leg. Enzo doesn't even grimace.

"Abby Bennett's location, now."

"I told you I don't have it. - Bonnie. Tell him to stop. He's not helping you. This is not gonna-"

"Just answer his question," she says coldly, hoping he can't tell how much she's shaking now, how sorrowful she's beginning to feel. Because this is it, isn't it? Her last encounter with Matt Donovan, and they're not going to miraculously revive their friendship. He isn't going to do a 180 and help her out of this. No… And she, she isn't going to help him out of this either.

But what is she going to do? Follow Enzo to his cabin?

"Where is my mom?"

She watches as Enzo squeezes Matt's throat, then - in a movement so shockingly precise and fast that Bonnie barely sees it - he tears off Matt's finger, the one with the Gilbert ring. An awful roar of pain escapes Matt, a howl, but Bonnie is shocked to realize that she feels… nothing. No regret, no anger, not even satisfaction.

"I figured you don't need this any more," Enzo says conversationally as Matt glares up at him in shock, trying to nurse his bleeding hand. "Since you despise anything and everything supernatural so much… Anyway, where were we? Oh, right. You were about to tell me where we can find Bonnie's mum."

"New Orleans," Matt finally presses out, and Enzo lets go of him abruptly, making him slump to the ground, panting.

Turning to look at Bonnie, Enzo shrugs at her, casually pulling the ring off the torn-off limb, then he walks over to her with an almost eerie and detached grin, and it makes her heart do a funny little jolt. It's as if she's just watching a movie, watching something unfold she has no power over, but that's not true, is it?

"He's all yours," he says, taking her hand and placing the ring inside, and she gasps a little at feeling the still warm metal, feeling the touch of his fingertips against her palm too. "Ask him whatever else you need to know," he tells her, his eyes so dark, his hand back on her cheek, his lips so close… "I'll wait for you upstairs, love. Do with him whatever you see fit while I'll grab a few things - and then we'll be out of here."

Neither of them mentions the finger, or the ring… mentions the horror of it all. She should be appalled, should berate him for turning all psychotic again, dangerous, deranged. But she doesn't.

"Okay," she mutters, smiling briefly before the expression fades away as he takes his hand away. Acutely aware of his missing touch, she follows him with her gaze until he's out of sight, only then focusing back on Matt in his cell.

"New Orleans?" she prompts, forcing herself to ignore the light tingle of anticipation and excitement creeping up her spine, her legs, her arms, and Matt nods, one hand clutching the other, his expression rather upset.

"Yeah."

"Why there? I thought the city is still in the hands of the supernaturals. I mean, I'm pretty sure the Originals wouldn't let any of your guys even come close-"

"That's exactly why she's there." His words cut her off abruptly, confusing her. He chuckled softly. "You should have let me finish before… - Your mom is no longer with us. She did her thing, she gave us the spell, and in turn we spared you. And she… she got to go wherever she wanted."

"And she chose New Orleans." Suddenly, it makes more sense. Almost too much. Her mom is in New Orleans, where the Mikaelsons are still reigning, where she suspects Care and Elena and Stefan have gone, too… Where the supernaturals are still somewhat safe.

And maybe it's time she goes there as well...

.

But what about Enzo? Would he go with her? He mentioned that cabin… Closing her eyes, Bonnie tries to think, tries to block out Matt in his cell and the fact that there are people out there waiting to burn the boarding house down with her and Enzo and even Matt still inside.

.

Enzo… She has to block him out, too, him and the promise of his cabin. Because she can't let him and his decisions keep her from going to find her mom. She can't.

Right?


	16. Kill

…

When she comes back up the stairs with a grim expression and wild hair, he is curious. He would like to know what happened down there after he went upstairs, would like to know whether Bonnie Bennett let dear Matt Donovan live, or whether in some crazy turn of events she actually ended up killing him.

He doesn't think she has that in her, murder, killing someone who was once a friend, but then again, he doesn't really know her all that well, does he?

And now she certainly looks like someone who could maybe, just maybe, have taken a life. Her hair is all over the place, her movements a bit shaky, and the gaze she shoots him when she's walking past him toward the living room is darker than he's ever seen it before.

She flops down on one of the couches, huffing loudly, raising her arms to wipe her face, dig her fingers into the corners of her eyes.

"That good, huh?"

"Just… don't."

He can take a hint. But he's not the kind of guy to let anyone off the hook.

"So, did you let him live, or end his sorry excuse for an existence?"

She glares over at him, then rolls her eyes, but he gets the feeling that it's not at him, just at the situation in general perhaps?

"I healed his hand." It sounds like a rather grudging admittance and he raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Don't… don't say anything, okay? I just… I can't do this, kill him. Even after everything."

"So you healed him instead? Well, aren't I glad your powers are back. Did you, what, grow him a new finger too?"

She sniffs loudly, her glare a little more heated. "I did not grow him a new finger. You have no idea how magic works, do you? You can't just regrow limbs like it's nothing. You can only work with what is there."

"So no new finger for dear Mattie, got it. Now what, are we leaving him down there when we head out?"

"I can't just leave, Enzo."

Uh oh. She said his name with that tone of hers, that tone she gets when she's extra serious. With a sigh, he walks over to her, sitting down in a sofa chair from where he can lean over to grab her hand. Why he does it, he has no idea. It's a strange reflex and he's a bit relieved to find out that she doesn't pull away.

"Bonnie. You're not safe here anymore. You heard him, they're going to set the place on fire, and I for one can't recommend the experience of getting burned alive. It's not all it's cracked up to be. It'll exacerbate your cough, make your eyes tear up. Nasty smell, too…"

He's trying for a light tone, trying hard to not let his actual memories come back from the place where he shoved them, but the small sad smile she gives him and the cold feeling creeping into him let him know that it's not really working.

"I know," she eventually mutters, her following sigh way too weary.

"But you're going to New Orleans," he concludes, the sudden realization all too clear. It shouldn't bother him, shouldn't affect him. In fact, he should be relieved he doesn't have to share his cabin with anyone, doesn't have to heighten the risk of it being discovered by anyone else. But he isn't. After just a few days spent with this woman right here before him he suddenly can't imagine being alone again.

He's been alone for most of his life, for too long. Too bloody long.

When she looks up at him again, he anticipates her nod and extends an arm to still the movement by cupping her cheek.

"Any chance I could persuade you to come to the cabin with me? Lay low for a while? We could still go to New Orleans after…"

"Enzo…" There's a silent plea in her voice, in her expression, and he nods in understanding before finally pulling away from her, sitting up straighter before pushing himself up with some reluctance.

"Alright. I guess this is goodbye then. I packed a few things for you, they're over by the backdoor. - I'll get on my way now. It's probably best-"

She's gotten up so quickly as if she was a vampire too and before he knows it, her lips are on his, her arms around his neck, and even though he's startled by her sudden boldness, it doesn't take him long to reciprocate, to pull her even closer, his hand cradling her head and neck as he kisses her back, closing his eyes.

He doesn't want this moment to end, he doesn't want it to ever end…

.

But then it does and she pulls away slightly to look up at him, her soft hand against his neck and collarbone, feeling too good, and with a sigh he grabs her wrist, forcing a smile on his face.

"Goodbye, Bonnie Bennett."

"Goodbye, Enzo St. John."

"Good luck out there. I hope you'll find your mum."

Her smile grows more genuine, wider, too, and that in turn makes him smile more.

"Thank you."

"Who knows, maybe we'll see each other again some day."

"That would be nice…"

By now his smile is starting to hurt his cheeks, and a heaviness that he can't shake anymore is taking hold of his heart. It's time to leave. Because if he doesn't do it now, he'll end up going to New Orleans with her, and that… would not be a good idea.

They're both standing transfixed for a while, unable to move, and it takes all his willpower to finally make the first step, spare her from having to make that decision, and then he speeds off, grabbing the small bag he packed, then turns around to look at her for the last time, from a safe distance.

"I'll give them a good exit. Should distract them for a bit, so you can sneak out of here."

"Enzo, please don't do anything stupid. Your leg-"

"Don't worry about me, love, you almost healed me" he says, then quickly dashes up the stairs, for the first time since he's been here stepping into Damon's room, and with a shuddering breath, he walks over toward the large window, trying hard to not let his gaze stray. Then, with a deep breath, he stares down, spotting Matt's companions hiding by the trees before he shatters the windowpane and jumps out the window, hoping both that the commotion will make these bloody idiots follow him and distract them from keeping tabs on Bonnie, and that it won't end with him getting captured and collared after all, or worse. Though if it does, it'll still be better than letting these bloody bastards have her...

* * *

…

Bonnie freezes when she hears the sound of glass shattering, cursing Enzo quietly as she forces herself to spring into motion. Quickly, she races over to the large bag he packed for her, and without double checking, she puts the straps over her shoulders, then jogs over to the stairs to the basement, and down, all the way to where a hidden small tunnel will lead her into the woods and away. With any luck, Matt's people won't find her there.

When she passes his cell, he's still out, and she grits her teeth, trying to forget the memory of how she almost ended up killing him.

.

Matt up in the air, pressed against the back wall of his cell while she pokes and prods his mind with her own. Forced telepathy… His face a tortured mask, tears begin rolling down his cheeks eventually, and still she keeps going, until she has all the information that she needs. Until she knows where to find her mom - who i's safe. For now.

.

Inhaling deeply and wrinkling her nose as the musty basement smell hits her, Bonnie forces herself to keep going, rushing through the small and too narrow tunnel until she can feel the air change, and then… she is out of the building and in the wide open space surrounding it. She lets her eyes dart around the perimeter, trying to see whether anyone is there. She's prepared to use magic to mow them down if she has to, but she'd rather sneak away secretly without having to do any of that. Even though killing that man Tripp would not be so bad…

When everything remains quiet, she finally dashes away, not looking back once, though her heart is going crazy at the thought of what she's leaving behind.

Not just the house, or the memories. Not Matt.

But Enzo. She's leaving him behind - no, she let him go - and now she's alone again, an unknown road ahead of her, and why the hell does it feel like she's doing something stupid? Why does it feel like she should have gone with him?

Because that's what she should have done.

Running toward the woods, then deeper and deeper into the maze of trees, the regret only grows, making her throat begin to feel too tight. She blinks, trying to cajole herself, trying to think of her mom. New Orleans is a safe haven for the supernaturals, it will be good to go there, even if Abby is already safe. It will be good for Bonnie, too, to finally be safe.

But what about Enzo?

Closing her eyes, she abruptly stops in her tracks, her hands balling themselves into fists as if of their own accord.

"Goddammit," she hisses out when she realizes that she's going to abort her plan, annoyed with herself now, and yet unable to do anything about it. She really is pathetic, isn't she? There she runs into an obnoxious vampire, and mere days later she leaves all logic behind, doesn't even care that she has no idea where exactly he went, but decides in a split second to follow him anyways. Clearly, that's the epitome of idiocy.

"Pull yourself together, Bonnie Bennett," she urges herself, her fingernails digging uncomfortably into her palms as if the pain could help, but of course it doesn't. Her decision is already made and pretending otherwise is not going to change that. So she presses her lips together in resignation, then scans the area, trying to determine where to go next.

Enzo said the cabin wasn't far, but far enough. He spent half a year hiding there, unharmed by Rh'a and humans alike…

Sighing, she shakes her head, beginning to walk again, now a lot slower. She has no idea where the hell the stupid cabin could be, or the stupid vampire for that matter, so all she has to go by are the tracks of Matt's people. Surely she can make her way back and simply follow them. She'll just have to make sure no one spots her…

* * *

…

It's a day later, a day without sleep, and Bonnie is growing more than tired. Her cough has grown worse again, even though it began to sound better before, and she's so weary, so exhausted that she's afraid her eyes will just shut any second and she'll find herself lying in the snow, slowly freezing to death.

She has no idea how Enzo even made it this far on his still not completely healed leg, and she almost - but not quite - regrets that her magic worked well enough to help the healing process along a good deal, well enough to facilitate this, his escape.

By now she's almost given up hope that she'll still find him, and she soon realizes that the non-supernaturals seem to have grown similarly tired of searching for Enzo when she almost runs into a large camp of them.

Barely managing to hide from view behind a large old snow-covered pine, she tries to keep from coughing as she risks a quick peek, watching the humans set up tents, some of them openly yawning, one loudly exclaiming that he's "freaking done with running after that nasty vamp-son-of-a-bitch."

An involuntary and appreciative grin appears on her face, and she pulls herself back behind the pine, covering her mouth, as if there's anyone there to see her.

He's good… Enzo. He's really going to make it to his damn cabin, isn't he?

When she's sure she has herself under control enough to not make a noise, she pokes her head out again, following the goings-on in the camp. The people are settling in, getting ready for some overdue rest, and she half wishes she could lay down with them.

"What a fucking waste of time," someone says, a woman, and when she pokes the campfire before her, the flames lick upwards enough for Bonnie to see a large scar across her face.

"Yeah. Should have just gone back with Donovan after the initial search of the premises. He told Tripp that we wouldn't find them, didn't he? But of course the boss has to see for himself." A man is shaking his head now, the woman nudging him, and Bonnie can see instantly that these two are close, not that it matters.

"You think he'll find them?"

"Tripp? - He might. At least the vamp. The witch, probably not. And frankly, I kinda hope he doesn't, not now that she's uncollared and could just kill us all if she decides she's having a bad day."

The two chuckle, and Bonnie feels a shiver of anticipation creep up the small of her back, spreading from there. So Tripp is still out there, still on their tracks.

A bad day… She rolls her eyes, then closes them, taking a few deep breaths that strangely burn in her lungs. Maybe the cold is getting to her. It doesn't really matter much. She'll have to continue walking, will have to try and look for Tripp, hoping that the man won't catch up with Enzo, because if he does…

Clenching her teeth, she rubs her too cold nose, shoving the straps of her heavy bag higher up her shoulders, then she makes her way into the darkening night.

* * *

...

"There you are."

The triumphant grin on the man's face makes Enzo give a weary sigh. His jaw muscles are beginning to hurt, he's been biting down hard for too long, trying to keep himself from making a noise, but now it doesn't matter anymore, because the man and his pets have caught up with him after all, and he isn't going anywhere.

At least it's taken him this long, three days, hopefully enough time for Bonnie to have made her way out of town, and closer to her destination.

Closing his eyes briefly, he takes a few shallow breaths, looking up again in time to see Tripp bending down to poke a gun into Enzo's side without getting a reaction, then pushing it down on his leg, making him grind his teeth as he fights to keep from yelling out.

The bloody leg. Even with Bonnie's amazing healing spell, the obnoxious limb couldn't keep up with three days of constant speeding through the woods, or rather, his foot couldn't, and now it feels as raw as on the day the Rh'a first got to him, and it's really not a good feeling.

His breaths are coming in short bursts as Tripp prods him yet again, then again, and he has to dig his hands into the bark, has to push his back and head harder into the tree trunk holding him upright to not collapse.

"Uh uh uh uh uh," Tripp makes, shaking his head at Enzo as he begins to lower himself to the ground, and he stops moving when the gun is pushed down yet again, staring hard at the man. There's a deep and sadistic grin on Tripp's features, something he has seen before. Too often…

Augustine. The memories of torture-happy men come back with a whoosh, unbidden, and he presses his lips together as he tries to smirk at his opponent.

"You win," he says, because he means it - and because he likes to taunt the other man, who clearly can't see it as a win when he couldn't catch the little witch.

Tripp continues with his creepy grin anyway, and Enzo rolls his eyes.

"So what now? Are you going to put one of your lovely collars around my neck? Lock me up in one of your not-so-secret torture chambers? Let your puppies have their way with me? He jerks his chin toward the two large Rh'a that are standing right before him, and Tripp seems to contemplate his options. Tilting his head, he takes Enzo in, eventually shaking his head.

"That depends."

Enzo raises an eyebrow, pretending to care about anything other than the pain to stop. He's had enough of that to last him many lifetimes, and he's beginning to grow tired of it. "On what?" he asks nonchalantly, however, as if he doesn't have a care in the world.

"Whether you'll bring me Bonnie Bennett or not."

He scoffs, his smirk widening, breaking into a genuine chuckle. The man can't be serious.

"Does that mean you won't help me?"

"What do you think?"

Tripp shoves his gun down, ramming it straight into Enzo's foot, and he has to turn his mind inward for a moment, allowing himself to seek refuge elsewhere, away from the present so as not to succumb to the pain, and the man who inflicted it.

There is Bonnie, wearing her white coat, looking like a snow queen or maybe an angel, he's not sure, and he smiles at her - at the apparition his brain is creating - as if she's really here.

"You might want to reconsider, Lorenzo. You're at my mercy and you know it." Tripp's voice filters into his conscience, followed by the loud and awful growl of the two motionless yet salivating Rh'a, their dank breath making him nauseous.

He chooses to focus on the gorgeous image of the little witch instead, a frown spreading on his face at the pure look of sadness, then anger on her face. One would think something his own mind created would look a little… friendlier, but this one doesn't seem to follow any rules.

Tripp pushes his gun down again, making Enzo stifle a cough of pain before he catches himself again, meeting the man's gaze head-on.

"If you think I'll break under torture, you should think again. I will not give you any information on Bonnie Bennett. I won't even tell you whether she prefers to drink tea or coffee."

Another hard shove, and Enzo almost slips, almost moves, barely catching himself before the bloody Rh'a can snap at him.

"We shall see. Everyone eventually breaks."

"I don't."

Tripp scoffs, too self-confident, but the man doesn't know enough about Enzo, or his past, and it makes his smirk stronger - until the bloody arsehole decides to shoot a bullet into the already smarting, burning foot, and he grimaces, forgetting to breathe - until he hears the apparition yell an outraged, "Enough!"

Startled, he looks up, inclining his head a little to blink into the dawning light, and he has to frown at the fierceness in her eyes, the way she holds her hands away from her - and at Tripp's shocked face.

"You can see her," he notes stupidly, trying to comprehend, but no one is listening to him, too focused are they on each other, Tripp - his most recent torturer - and Bonnie Bennett - the apparition that is apparently not a construct of his mind after all.

"Leave him alone!"

"Ms. Bennett, can we-"

"No. Step away."

Tripp is shaking his head, Enzo is… grinning like a bloody idiot and Bonnie…

He has to close his eyes for a moment, trying to focus, but it's not quite working. There's a sudden pull to just let himself fall, but he knows he can't. The Rh'a are still a mere inch away from him, ready to tear him to pieces, and right there is Bonnie Bennett, charging up.

"Phesmatos…," she suddenly begins chanting, her hands shaking slightly, and he watches as Tripp raises his own hands, yelling something at the Rh'a or Bonnie, or maybe even Enzo, he can't quite follow. They probably had a longer conversation before Bonnie decided to channel her magic, but he doesn't recall any of that either. So maybe it didn't happen like that. Maybe Bonnie just decided that enough is enough. He certainly can't blame her for that…

Exhaling in a long sigh, he tries to hold himself upright, tries to keep the Rh'a focused on him so they won't go for her. But before he knows it, the air fills with her voice, her chant, powerful and eerie and out of this world, and a surge of… something zooms past him, uprooting the beasts and whirling them far, far, away, and he can finally let himself sink to the ground, his leg giving out completely as he stares up and watches the rest unfold.

"Bonnie," he mutters, not loud enough for her to hear, but he's not sure it matters anyways. Because this has to happen, it's been a long time coming, he knows it and she knows it and while he's worried about her, worried what this might do to her, he also understands the inevitability of it, the necessity.

Tripp has to go. And Bonnie Bennett will see to it that he does.

* * *

…

She uses her powers to whirl him up in the air, not allowing him another second to continue with his torture and taunting. It's enough, she has had enough, everyone has had enough.

This man is a monster. He killed Damon, he tortured Enzo, he...

Narrowing her eyes, Bonnie forces herself to focus on Tripp, and Tripp alone. She can't worry about Enzo now or think of Damon or of her other friends. Right now, this task needs her entire concentration. Because she is about to kill this man, and the least she can do is acknowledge the gravity of it.

He is trying to say something, but a surge of her magic shuts him up, robbing him of much needed air. He's suffocating up there, flailing like a drowning person, blood beginning to run from his eyes, his ears, his mouth as she begins to put pressure on him.

She should end this quickly, should show mercy perhaps. But Bonnie Bennett doesn't have any mercy left, not for him. Not for Tripp Cooke.

She raises her chin, staring up, both arms held high, palms out, letting the magic flow from her and do its thing as if it has nothing to do with her. Ignoring the blood dripping from her own nose, she goes on and on, a loud yell cutting through the forest surrounding her, crescendoing until suddenly an eerie silence spreads and it's over.

It's over.

With a gasp, she crumbles in on herself, slumping down on her knees as Tripp's body comes crashing down just a few feet away from Bonnie. Her breaths come in heaving panting sounds, her body shaking, her lungs on fire as she stares ahead, unable to function.

She didn't even let him speak… But then, why should she have? He wouldn't have bothered with an apology, she knows that much, and anything else coming from his mouth would have only made matters worse.

"Bonnie."

Her eyes are closed when she hears his low voice breaking through to her, opening the armor she has built around herself in order to go through with her awful task. But now Tripp is gone, truly gone, and the armor is falling away and all that is left is pain and shock and an awful feeling of sorrow.

"I killed him," she murmurs, unable to quite process, because she has never killed like this before… "I killed him…"

Her voice growing shaky like her body, she tries to scramble up and fails. But then strong arms come around her, pulling her up and she stares right into Enzo's dark eyes as he looks down on her.

"He deserved it," he says, the beginnings of a grim smile on his face that quickly wanes when unbidden tears begin trailing down her cheeks. "Bonnie, hey…"

"I… I know he was bad," she stutters, clutching his arms in desperation, shock winning over now. "But I… I shouldn't have done this. Magic is not supposed to be used to kill. Oh my gosh-"

"You did nothing wrong, love."

She wants to believe him, but she can't, not really. Her Grams would be so appalled…

"Bonnie. Look at me."

His hold on her tightens, and she looks up again, then let's her gaze trail down to his leg, his foot.

"He hurt you," she says stupidly, getting ready to kneel down and inspect the damage, her brain fuzzy and dazed. But he keeps her from doing so, his grip so strong that she can barely move.

"I'm fine," he mutters, "Just a little vervained bullet, nothing I couldn't take care of. It's all healed up again already. You need to focus on yourself. You don't look so hot, Bonnie Bennett."

That's because she's not feeling so hot… Instead of admitting that, however, she looks up at him with a hint of sass, jerking her head a little as if she's offended.

"You are one to talk. Don't look so great yourself. Have you conveniently forgotten about the Rh'a venom in your system?"

He grins at her, scoffing lightly. "I have not. But thanks for the reminder. - Looks like I could use another dose of your marvelous magic…"

"And a dose of unpoisoned blood…" She trails off, her concentration already dissipating again, Tripp's lifeless body coming back into focus instead. She really killed him, he is dead.

"Bonnie. - Bonnie, hey… Easy now…"

It barely registers with her that she's begun to cry, soft sobs suddenly making their way out of her, the shivers back with a vengeance. She doesn't mind when Enzo presses her flush against his chest, a hand cupping the back of her head, an arm coming around her waist, just holding her. She feels his chin rest on the crown of her head, feels his calming breaths, hears the slow beat of his heart right under her ear, and clutching at his shirt, she is holding on as if for dear life.

"I'm sorry, I…" Yeah, what? She can't say, doesn't know, it's just… Suddenly everything feels wrong.

Except for him.

.

"It's alright, love. You're alright… It's over."


	17. One bed

…

Enzo's cabin is freezing when they finally make it there. But at least it is a lot nicer than Bonnie anticipated. Maybe it was the word - cabin - that made her think it was just a pile of bare logs, so rustic that it might as well be a tent. But this place is… cute. There's a comfortable looking living room area with a fireplace, a guitar sitting against one wall, a pile of books on the coffee table. There's a neat little kitchen, and from where she stands she can even glimpse a real bathroom, and a tidy bedroom with a large king size bed.

One bed…

She shouldn't even care about that fact right now, but for some reason it's all she can focus on. That there is just one bed for both of them, to share, unless one of them is going to sleep on the couch.

The door behind her closes with a soft thud, Enzo limping past her while she is still standing there, taking it all in.

"This is yours?" she asks, exhaling slowly before turning to look at her host, who has slouched down on the couch, his neck extended as he is resting his head against the back cushions.

"Yuh."

"Huh."

She is still looking around, but walking over to him at the same time, catching the frown he shoots in her direction as he pushes himself up a little again.

"What? Is that so surprising? - Not everyone comes from a privileged background and owns a bloody mansion."

An involuntary smile crosses her features at his defensive tone, and when she meets his gaze, it's shuttered, a hint of the old Enzo back, guarded, almost hostile.

"Easy there, I wasn't implying anything. I'm actually… positively surprised. This place is really nice." She's not sure her words make it better or worse, but she can't read any of the emotions flitting across his shadowed face, so she stops trying and just flops down right next to him. The day has been too long, too exhausting, and too awful and she doesn't want to fight over something that wasn't even meant as a jab.

"It's served its purpose so far," he eventually allows, and she's acutely aware of how close he is, his proximity making her skin prickle.

"Didn't know you played."

He shoots her a questioning glance, making her jerk her chin in the direction of his guitar, and a small smile appears on his features.

"Not much to do in a cabin in the woods. This beauty has been my trusty companion for the last few months."

Until he ran into her…

A storm of images and emotions assaults her without warning, she and Enzo in the woods, in the boarding house, always together, always so close, and then… Matt against the wall, Tripp… up in the air.

Stifling an anguished sound, she presses her palms into her eyes, leaning forward abruptly, shivering slightly when she feels Enzo's touch on her back, feels him tuck away a strand of her hair.

"Are you alright, love?"

A soft scoff escapes her as she smiles sadly, forcing herself to look at him. With a shuddering breath she then shakes her head. And if she's being too honest, she doesn't even care.

"No," she therefore murmurs, "I'm not. I'm… I thought this would feel different. Better. That I'd feel some peace knowing he's gone." She can't say his name, Tripp Cooke's, because saying it will feel like an acknowledgement of what she did, murdering a human, and she's not quite ready yet for that. But Enzo doesn't seem to care or notice. He also doesn't come any closer, his hand still lingering by her ear, her cheek, not quite touching, and suddenly that's not enough, not enough at all, and she half throws herself at him, slinging her arms around his neck, pushing herself closer to him until she can almost taste him already, his lips are so close, his dark eyes on her…

"Bonnie. I'm not sure-"

"Shhh…"

She doesn't want to hear it, doesn't want him telling her that now is not the time, that they shouldn't do this, because it's all she wants, all she needs, the one thing that can take her mind off the horrors roaring through her.

"Please," she's begging now, hoisting herself up a little, shrugging out of her coat a little too quickly, pulling her sweater over her head frantically, urgently, desperately… "Please."

Her lips clash against his before she guides his hands toward her body, placing one against her breast, one further down. She can feel rather than see the hunger, the arousal in his gaze, can feel it in the way he seems to try to hold back, to not engage. But she wants him to, she needs him to.

"Fuck me," she urges before her tongue plunges into his mouth, her hands busying themselves with his belt, with the buttons on his pants. She can feel him under the fly, can feel his body react to her, and she is so ready for this…

Abruptly, he grabs her hand, stopping her, pulling away enough to be able to look at her, and a new flush mixes with the one of arousal already tingeing her cheeks.

"What-"

"We're not doing this, love."

Anger begins flooding in, making her glare at him and twist her arm out of his grasp.

"Not doing what? Fuck? - Don't tell me you don't want this. I can _feel_ that you do, you know?" She shoots a pointed look down at his crotch, venom in her tone, so much anger in her now, so much _anger…_

His scoff is accompanied by a sad expression, but he doesn't deny the obvious.

"I do," he allows, "I do want to fuck you, Bonnie Bennett. You don't know _how_ much I want this, how much I want _you_."

She can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows, running a hand over his forehead before he pushes her off even more, handing her her shirt, then getting on his feet, limping over to the fireplace.

"Then why are you doing this to me?!" She raises her chin, staring at him defiantly, acutely aware of her own half-nakedness as his hungry gaze is on her before he turns around, busying himself with making a fire. It's at that moment that she realizes just how cold she is, how goosebumps are running down her bare arms, her legs… It's so cold, but it's not just the cold in the cabin…

"Talk to me!" she orders, her brain not quite functioning when she rushes forward, toward him, grabbing his arm hard to make him look at her.

He closes his eyes, sighing deeply, a ball of paper in one hand as he slowly gets up again to stand before her.

"I want this," she says, understanding beginning to dawn, just vaguely - like it's only slowly translating. "I want you to fuck me, Enzo, I want you to. I want _you_."

"Trust me, love, there's nothing I'd rather believe, nothing I'd rather do. But you're hurt. Confused. What you just did…"

She's ready to explode at him. Anticipating the accusations that are surely going to come now, she opens her mouth, ready to counter-attack, to remind him of his own awful deeds. But then he continues and she quickly deflates.

"It was too traumatizing for you. - You're a good person, Bonnie, don't ever doubt that. You're too good for this world, and what you just had to do, it was too much. You need time to process that, time to come to terms with it… and I'm here for you while you do. I'm here to help you if you need me. I won't go anywhere, but… not like this." He pauses, the saddest, saddest smile on his face as he very carefully strokes her cheek. Then he takes off his jacket and puts it over her shoulders, pulling it closed for her. A shiver runs through her at his sudden smell and warmth enveloping her like a remote embrace, and she has to swallow once, twice, blinking as she feels her barriers break, feels a lump grow in her throat at a rapid rate.

"Enzo, I…"

He shakes his head, placing a finger against her lips.

"And then, when you have, and you still want to do this, still think you want _me, _I'll be right here…"

Her chin begins to wobble traitorously, as if her body is comprehending what he said quicker than her still somewhat upset brain, and she bites the inside of her lower lip to keep it from trembling too much. To no avail.

"Hey."

He gives her this look, so full of… sympathy and… maybe it's love - unless she's fooling herself, because why would there be love in his gaze, for her?

"Hey," he repeats, cupping her face, his thumb wiping at her cheek, and only then does she notice that she's crying. Silent tears are running down her cheeks, the lump in her throat threatening to suffocate her.

Why is he so tender with her, so nice, when she feels like she doesn't deserve it, like the world is crashing down around her? She killed Tripp, without giving him any chance to defend himself. She killed him! When she should have locked him up. The memory of her lecturing Enzo about presumably killing Matt comes back to her, how upset she was that he had done what she now did…

Maybe that's why he's so sweet. They're kindred spirits… Maybe they always were, maybe that's why she's been feeling this pull toward him ever since she first met him.

And it's why she saved him all those months ago…

She wants to say something now, wants to apologize for her ridiculous behavior, for throwing herself at him like that, trying to force him into this, but the words won't come.

"Come on, love, why don't we bring you to bed so you can sleep over it," Enzo mutters, wrapping an arm around her, gently steering her toward the bedroom, and she lets it happen without a fight as a strange numbness begins to take hold of her, and she leans more and more into him for support.

"Nights make everything that much drearier," he goes on, kissing the crown of her head, "Believe me, I know… - Get some sleep, and then, tomorrow, everything will look much better already."

She can only hope that he's right…

* * *

…

Enzo swallows, turning to face the wall as Bonnie takes off his jacket to put on the shirt and too loose sweatpants he gave her to change into. He's so very aware of her behind him, that gorgeous body she so willingly offered up to him mere minutes ago, and part of him is truly upset that he didn't take her up on the offer.

Because he wants her. He wants her so bloody much.

But the better part of him knows it's not good for either of them. Not now… He doesn't just want to be a consolation prize, the medicine that takes the pain away for a few blissful moments.

He thinks of the walk here, to the cabin, remembering what she felt like pressed against his side, remembering, too, how she let him drink from her, how he only allowed himself the smallest amount of her blood so as not to weaken her, use her… That small noise she made when he pricked her skin…

Swallowing, he forces himself to stay focused, and not on those memories. They'd only drag him down places he doesn't want to go. (He does…)

He closes his eyes, curling his hands into fists. This girl, she's doing strange things to him, and he's falling for her, falling too fast, too hard, and even though the rational part of him knows he needs to stop, to keep his distance, he already knows it's too late for that.

Chances are skyhigh that he's going to get his heart ripped right out of him, broken into tiny pieces, because surely she can't ever meet the ridiculous expectations already swarming through him.

Like she's the one. The one worth everything. The one who understands him completely and doesn't - won't - ever abandon him for it. Because she is special.

And way too good for him, no matter what she thinks of herself now...

When he senses that she's done, he slowly turns around again, smiling a small smile at her. She's extending her arms, doing a little pirouette like she's modeling the outfit for him and his smile widens as she makes a face.

"I look ridiculous."

"You are gorgeous, love."

She rolls her eyes, scoffing. "Right… - Well, it's not like the bed will mind."

They stare at each other silently for so long that awkwardness seeps in and he clears his throat, running a hand over the back of his neck.

"Um…" He points behind him. "I'll get the fire going, find us something to eat. - I'll be just out the door if you need anything…"

"Enzo?"

"Hm?"

The way she bites her lip is making him go crazy, and he has to force himself to stay stock still as he keeps staring at her, waiting for what she wants to say to him so he won't do anything rash.

"Could you… could you lay with me for a bit first? Just… just lay..."

He swallows, hard, the fingernails digging into his palms reminding him that his hands are still clenched into tight fists and he finally loosens them, smiling at her with a half frown.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, "if you don't want-"

"Of course," he blurts, interrupting her, coming over to her in a few quick strides, feeling his skin bristle at being so close to her. Lifting a hand, he caresses her cheek, his gaze locked on hers, mesmerized by her beautiful green eyes. "If you're sure…"

She nods, never taking her eyes off him. Then she takes his free hand, holding it as she lowers herself onto the bed, crawling under the blanket, and he follows her, feeling awkward for just a moment until they are both lying down and she scoots over to him, snuggling up, her breaths evening out with sleep so fast that he has to smile to himself as he strokes her hair.

He could get used to this, he thinks, closing his eyes too, content to just hold her, keep her company while she sleeps...


	18. Risotto

…

He was right. Enzo was right. When Bonnie wakes up, allowing herself to come to slowly, she finds that the world around her seems calmer, less oppressive, less dark - and not just because rays of sun are streaming through the window, tickling her nose a little, making the smallest dust particles whirl through the air like infinitesimal snowflakes.

It is a peaceful moment, and just what she needs right now.

Sighing, she wiggles under the blanket a bit more, closer to him. The air around them is cold, but in here she is warm and comfortable, and finally better. She can feel it, how breathing isn't such a chore anymore, her nose no longer as stuffed up, her throat, her body not aching so much anymore, her mind no longer so anguished, and it's a relief.

She has no idea how long she slept. Going by the angle of the rays of light around her, it's at least noon, possibly later, but she doesn't care. All she cares about is that finally there's no urgency to go anywhere, not today. She can just continue to doze, lying snuggled up with Enzo in this bed, her head in the crook of his arm, her leg resting across the middle of his body, her arms wrapped around him.

Glancing up at his face, she can see that he's still asleep, his breathing even, his features calm, and she smiles before closing her eyes again, too. He needs this as much as she does, time to recuperate, to just lay and recharge.

The world out there can spin without them for a little while longer, while they continue to rest and get better, and if she doesn't have to think too much about last night, that's a plus.

"You feeling better, love?"

Startling a bit, she looks up, surprised at his raspy question, at the fact that he's not as asleep as she thought. With a smile, she nods, enjoying it a little too much when he pulls her even closer, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Yuh," she murmurs against him, giving a sigh when his fingers draw lines across her arm, up and down.

"Can I get you something to eat?"

He begins to stir a little, making her tighten her hold on him. She doesn't want him to go anywhere, and she's past pretending that that is not the case. Because she likes him. A lot. This obnoxious vampire, who's been nothing but a pain in the ass for the longest time, suddenly has made his way deep into her heart.

"Nah," she therefore says, "I just want to lay with you for a little while longer. Is that okay?"

"Nothing I'd rather do." His words are a breath against the crown of her head, warm and comforting, and it just feels too good…

…

It's growing dusky outside when she wakes up next, feeling a light kiss on her cheek, and this time, she sits up, her cheeks flushing a bit when she notices that Enzo is all dressed, balancing a little tray with food on one hand.

"Hello, love. Care to eat something? I made you some risotto."

"Risotto?" Would he ever cease to surprise her?

He sits down by her side, running a hand over her back as she inspects the dish, its smell making her realize just how ravenous she is.

"This is good," she acknowledges after the first bite, her mouth still full, and his smile in reply is the sweetest thing.

"There's more."

"What about you? We probably need to get you some-"

"I'm not proud to admit this, but I pulled a Stefan and went for some lovely squirrel." He rolls his eyes theatrically, making her chuckle.

"Did you now? And how exactly did you even catch one? With your leg the way it is."

"Very unlucky squirrel."

"Uh huh…" She shoots him a look, digging into the risotto again. "And your leg?"

"A little luckier?"

Scoffing, she lightly slaps his arm.

"Can we be serious? I'm still worried about you. That Rh'a venom-"

"I'm fine, Bonnie. Really."

"You're limping. You are a vampire and yet your leg won't heal completely, even after two attempts at a healing spell." She raises her eyebrows, and he briefly makes a face before putting a smile back in place.

"It's a lot better, though. And I'm still alive."

"Yeah…" It is more than most people could say that ever had a run in with the Rh'a like they had. She should count her blessings and just accept that while maybe she saved his life, she won't be able to completely heal his leg. Maybe never. But what counts is that he's here, with her. That he will live. If he has to go through life with a bit of a limp remaining, surely they can deal with that.

Smiling to herself, she looks away, then shakes her head. It's really come that far, hasn't it? That she envisions them staying together?

"What is it?" Enzo frowns at her, tapping her chin, and she licks her lips, tilting her head as she looks at him.

"I was just…" She redirects herself, sighing. "What are we going to do now? I still need to go find my mom, but… - This cabin… Maybe you're right and we should stay here and lay low for a while. I'm sure after everything that happened yesterday, they'll have reinforced their troops and are out there looking for us." She pauses, rubbing the palm of her hand over her forehead, the risotto almost gone. They both know that what she didn't say is that her killing Tripp is what will surely bring more people out here, searching for them.

"Probably…"

"I should place a cloaking spell around the cabin, and a protection spell, so no one can come in."

Enzo is smiling, taking her hand in his.

"I begin to see the benefits of being friends with a witch."

"Is that what we are?" she asks, feeling stupid as soon as the words are out. Yet she can't take them back now. "Friends?" Please don't say friends with benefits, a little voice inside her head says and when he replies, she tenses inwardly.

"I won't lie, love. I want to be more than friends, but yes. We are friends, and I can live with it if that's all you want it to be."

Swallowing, she finds herself drawn to his lips, staring at them, then up at his eyes, those deep dark eyes that she can't always read, but right now, she can see everything in there, mirroring her own feelings. Goosebumps creep up her body, making her tingle, and she leans over to him, extending a hand to cup his face.

"I want to be more than friends, too," she allows, feeling increasingly awkward, like she's speaking in some kind of code when all she should do is-

His kiss, a lot rougher, a lot more passionate than any before, catches her off-guard, making her clutch his arm and gasp before she reciprocates, the clang of china on the floor making them both startle and stop, laughing out when they see the bowl of risotto shattered on the ground.

But the interruption doesn't distract them for long. Bonnie doesn't care about the broken bowl, about the fact that their lives are just as messy as the spattered ground. She doesn't care that she still needs to process killing a man, and torturing a former friend. She doesn't care that she barely knows the vampire before her, has barely spent a few days with him. It all doesn't matter, not in this moment, and this feeling, to not care about any of that, to put herself first for once, her wishes, her desires, is so overpoweringly strong that she almost forgets to breathe.

* * *

…

He pushes her back onto the bed, not too harsh, but insistent, his desire for her, for this, almost too much to bear. He captures her lip with his teeth, trying hard to keep from biting her, tasting her. But she's so intoxicating that it's almost impossible.

Keeping himself elevated with his arms, he hovers over her, his body not touching hers, not yet, until she tugs and pulls at him, urgently, desperately, and it doesn't take more for him to give in…

.

After, he finds himself lying beside her - again, cuddling like an old couple, and it feels… natural.

He's hopeless, he knows it. He's setting himself up for having his heart broken. But then… It hasn't happened yet, not with her. After days spent together, she's always come through for him, even went after him and saved him from Tripp.

So who knows, maybe it's finally his turn to find a little happiness, even if it is in this drab and dreary world. As long as Bonnie Bennett is in it, he'd even go to hell.

"You okay?"

Her question startles him a bit, and he smiles at her, nodding.

"Are you?"

She wiggles closer, tracing his collarbone with her index finger, lost in thought for a moment before she smiles up at him.

"If you told me this would happen when we first met…"

She trails off, grinning wide, but she doesn't have to continue. The thought makes him chuckle too.

"Things have changed."

"I feel like we've had this exact same conversation before."

"Well, some things never change?"

She nudges him, rolling her eyes, before eventually peeling herself away from him, into a sitting position.

"You know that we'll have to talk about… all this at some point, right?"

He feigns ignorance, trying to shut out the darker undertones of where they're headed.

"What, you and me in bed? Having sex?"

She raises her eyebrows, half smiling, half frowning when she shoves him playfully.

"Me killing someone. Us. The cabin. My mom. New Orleans. Not necessarily in that order."

"Phew," he makes, smirking as he wipes his brow with mock-relief. "For a second I was worried that we are only second on that list."

"Enzo. Can you be serious for a moment?"

He doesn't want to be, he really doesn't. The last few days have been serious enough if you ask him, and he's so ready to just live a little again, and enjoy the fact that for once he's no longer alone in the cabin.

"Of course," he says anyway, sitting up now too, putting an arm around Bonnie's neck and pulling her closer. She lets him, way too easily, and he has to smile at that, too.

She smells so good…

"I still want to go find her. My mom..."

"I know. And we will. But first, like you said, let's lay low for a while, until everything has died down a bit, and then we can make our way over there."

Nodding, she leans more against him, briefly looking up.

"So you will come with me?"

"Of course. How could I not go with you, Bonnie? - Besides, I've heard so much about the infamous Mikaelson clan and never got a chance to meet them. Who knows, maybe we can persuade them to form some magical, supernatural alliance and overthrow dear Mattie and his rugrat group of puppy lovers."

Her scoff is harsh, tinged with both real amusement and something way darker, and for some reason, it intrigues him. Killing Tripp has changed her, and while she thinks it's for the worse, he begins to see it differently…

This Bonnie Bennett is more interesting, more nuanced than he ever thought possible when he first encountered her.

"Yeah, clearly you haven't met Klaus and his siblings. I thought for sure maybe Caroline would have given you the cliff notes version. They're not exactly team players."

"But dark and handsome, with a beautiful accent."

"Get over yourself!" She chuckles, slapping his chest, shooting him a look that makes him laugh, too. Until they both fall silent again.

He is the first one to find his voice again. Stroking her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear, he looks at her more wistfully.

"I do want you to know that I mean it. I'll go to New Orleans with you, Bonnie Bennett, and anywhere else. And I will do whatever it takes so you will find your mum."

He can see her eyes well up a bit, can see her fight with a wave of sudden emotions, and he traces her cheek with his thumb, wiping over it gently as she whispers a soft "Thank you…"

Smiling at her, he swallows, feeling his own onslaught of emotions. He's not used to this, to her, but it's something he's not going to give up again easily. Not anymore.

* * *

…

_This is, I'm afraid, the point where we'll leave these two for now. My inner motivation to actually write out what's only half formed in my head isn't really there at the moment, so I gave this story a rather open but at least hopeful ending, with the possibility that I'll revisit this story in the future._

_The initial plan was always to show them come to terms with their feelings for each other while at the cabin, and also come to terms with that erupting darker side of Bonnie. _

_We would have eventually followed them to New Orleans, would have seen them interact with the Mikaelsons, would have found out that Elijah rescued a grieving, heartbroken Elena from herself, would have found out whether Caroline stayed with Stefan or turned toward Klaus, and I think I would have liked to have our reluctant villain Matt meet Rebekah to see where it would have taken them…_

_Anyways. Writing is a fickle business, and this is all I got for you now. A special thanks to deenew and Jade, who are basically the reason I didn't completely abandon this fic chapters ago. Thank you two for your extra encouragement._

_I hope you can live with this sort-of-ending. Thanks for reading._


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